Wednesday March 21, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Springtime, &c. Slept late and Ally was in a temper about it because she wanted to be in town and shopping by 9. I was wallowing in the bath at this time. I told her frankly that we cannot rush or adhere to a strict timetable with Samuel. Eventually we went to Leeds at 10 and pushed the baby around in his pram breathing in the fresh, unpoluted air, and peering in shop windows. Bought very like. I looked at shoes.

Back for 12 to do the lunches. It was a busy few hours. Afterwards we took our son and heir to the clinic and had him weighed. 11lb 8oz. He behaved well midst the screaming multitude and for the most part he sat wide eyed and silent. A poor child there, from a mixed race liaison, had black and white patches all over his little face. He looked like a chessboard. The mother looked to be no older than 16. 

Back for 3:30. Lazed around and later snoozed in a chair. Made a fish pie, but Ally moaned that my messing around in the kitchen took too long. Saw 'Minder' and then the news. Mrs T is giving them jip in Brussels. At this rate we'll be out of the EEC by Christmas.

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Tuesday March 20, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Peter N is 26 today. We left a present for him with John on Saturday. It's a shirt. I do like Peter Nason. You always know just where you stand with him. After ten years he hasn't changed in any way. 

Ally made it to the bar at 5:30 and did some cleaning. The place is a pigs breakfast and hasn't been touched properly in years. Filthy Piries.

Samuel is a bulky, stocky little thing. We are having him weighed tomorrow and are placing bets as to what he'll weigh in at. Ally says 11lb 9oz, and I say 11lb 13oz. His hair is coming back and will be dark.

Dead downstairs tonight. Jane stood around like a pound of wet cod. Things seldom hot up until the last half hour. Mike Brown and David Parry came in. We discussed non-consummation of marriage. What is non-consummation? Is it failure to penetrate or failure to ejaculate?

News: the dear PM goes to Brussels to sock it to the EEC sumit.

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Monday March 19, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Another stocktake. Rob came at 8:30, and I staggered around with him, my eyes like piss holes in the snow. Felt most unrefreshed from my six hours in the Land of Nod. A good stock. A £30 surplus no less. Colin Black was upon us at 10:30 with Barry Jones who re-programmed the tills. Nigel Lawson's budget alterations now mean that Old Brewery bitter is 57p a pint , lager 69p, Sovereign bitter 60p, mild 56p, &c. Very good prices in comparison with Tetley's and the others.

Pork chops at 2. Audrey loves taking every opportunity to creep upstairs and peep into our little world. ____. Afterwards we all slept in a heap by the gas fire (Ally on a pile of cushions), me nursing Samuel, as 'Blue Peter' twittered in the background. 

Went downstairs at 5:30. Old Reg says he will go blind in six months. All were grousing at the price rises, but they will all have forgotten by next week. Joan glided in at 8 looking like she had just stepped out of the Savoy Grill. Immediately she mucked up the till and to avoid strangling her I adjourned upstairs where bathtime was just complete and Samuel lay sucking and giggling.

Harry and Marion Miller came in and I took them up to Ally after 10 minutes to avoid a drunken Irishman who was going on and on about Lord Mountbatten's assassination. Later I threw him out for signing Irish rebel songs. Harry Miller goes on and on but his heart is in the right place.

We got rid of Joan in a taxi. The Millers left at 11:30.

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Sunday March 18, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

2nd Sunday in Lent

No leisurely day abed for me. I was up at 8:30 and cleaned the beer lines. Ally came down and wiped shelves. The very old cleaner Anne doesn't always see the dirt. 

Old diaries came out last night and we re-lived ___________.

Dead to the world. Headache. Ally made a beautiful lunch. Veal, &c. We ate at 3 and collapsed for a couple of hours afterwards watching a hopeless film. We bathed Samuel at 5:30. He takes such notice of us nowadays. 

Ally went down at 7 with every intention of opening for the first hour but no sooner was she downstairs when Samuel awoke in howls and she had to come back up for the duration. It was busy later. Jane, mysterious Jane. She holidayed in the Bahamas last year. Just what dark secret does she harbour? Ally says she is recovering from a broken romance. Bed late. Read Noel Coward.

Takings: (B) £143.48, (L) £167.90

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Saturday March 17, 1984

 St Patrick's Day

I went down at 11, without Secret Service cover, and waited for 'Lurch' to return and tear my head off. Obviously, he didn't appear. It was supposed to be a Michael Brown Saturday, but he didn't come either. I propped up the bar in the lounge and did little work. At 3 we drove to Guiseley and found Lynn and Susan out. Went to see John and found the Bakers at the flat. Katie has begun to talk, and seems to have 'come on' as Lynn would say. Frances was tatty. They looked like 'ragamuffins' in fact. That's something my mother says. What are ragamuffins? Janette delights in visitors and made us tea and cake. Samuel, in blue and white stripes today, looks edible. He is Ally's double.

I opened at 7. Had a quiet night. Margaret (Milne) joined me at 8. Marlene and Frank came in with another couple (he was heavily tattooed). Frank drank Mandarine Napoleon brandy, and they left at 10. Debbie enjoyed the holiday in Austria, but Mark hated it.

Ally and I had a long, in depth chatter about children. We are in agreement on everything.

Takings: (B) £178.16, (L) £198.82

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Friday March 16, 1984

 Frantically busy. Today is my grandfather Wilson's birthday _________. Christine Braithwaite also celebrates today, as does Tony Brotherwood.

We have been putting up with a psycopathic drug-pusher who makes regular appearances in the tap room with a batttered lady friend with lank hair and a mock leather coat. The guy appears to be about seven feet tall and looks like a character from a Peter Cushing Hammer film. Tonight he annoyed me, and stepped out of line, throwing a dart behind the bar which speared a packet of nuts and was immediately 'clotched' as they say in Leeds. He left without a struggle but threatened to come back tomorrow at 11am to 'tear my head off'. Evil Edna was very chuffed at this very public 'clotching'. The man was a nuisance.

Up late. Ate currant tea cakes and watched a late 60s film. Ally delicious. Samuel slept well.

Takings: (B) £227.12, (L) £189.81

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Thursday March 15, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Greville: Puff?

Stayed in bed until 8. I am resassured to read in the Daily Telegraph that since the budget N. Lawson is now a serious contender for the Tory leadership after Mrs T's resignation in 1995. I am of the same opinion. How long will Margaret go on? If she is defeated in 87/88 then it will be curtains, but a third term will see the PM in her late 60s and surely heading to retirement.  Interesting. 

Samuel, wearing his new clothes, did a lot of giggling. He now has fat knees and pudgy hands, and I cannot begin to describe the joy I feel when he looks upn at me - his father. I could weep. 

A volume of Noel Coward's diaries arrived in the post. An excellent volume. Why are almost all diarists with the exception of Samuel Pepys, homosexual? Is it an effeminate thing for a man to do? Were Greville and Creevey both poofs? And how about that Sassoon chappie? I can assure you that I am not sat here in a Hardy Amies creation with pink finger nails and string of pearls. Actually I look very respectable. Grey pants, blue shirt and a red tie. Every inch a publican. 

Lunch was a mad rush. Lots of food orders. Barely had time to eat afterwards. ______. Busy until 8. Went upstairs when Margaret and Karen came in. Watched the news. The Queen Mother was at the races watching the Cheltenham Gold Cup bringing a bit of light relief to the miners' crisis and the Labour furore about poor Mark Thatcher's Oman deal. Too pitiful. Alison was ironing until 10. The boom of the juke box below was infuriating.

Takings: (B) £208.92, (L) £154.42

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Wednesday March 14, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Stock take. Ronnie came and left at about 10:30. However, we have a defecit of about £40. Ally drove Dave to the station. He left giving us £20 for Samuel's bank account. How good of him. I told him to come here on June 19. We'll see. Our so-called day off. Did the lunches and then went out to town at 3 to buy Samuel masses of clothes. Did a good deal of window shopping. Returned somewhat wind-blown and exhausted. Blame the fresh air. Upstairs Samuel was restless and grouchy. He must be a Dixon. The staff down below didn't  bother us and we sat in front of the TV eating ploughman's lunches and nodding off. Watched 'Minder' and the news. The miners are holding the country to ransom yet again. Thank God we have Margaret Thatcher and not that weakling Heath. The Irish have attempted to kill that nauseating IRA MP whose name escapes me. Bed at 11:30 or 12. Michael Brown phoned and canceled our night out.

Takings: (B) £166.39, (L) £126.91

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Tuesday March 13, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

When did Samuel begin to smile and gurgle like a proper baby? This seems to have crept upon us and I have no accurate record of his very 'firsts'. A lengthy breakfast with Ally and Dave. The usual cereals and fried sausages. A spider plant in the middle of the dining table was hanging in the butter and jam. 

Lawson: narrow money?

Dray day. Budget day. It was Nigel Lawson's first budget and as I sat upstairs watching it dawned on me that he might one day succeed dear M (Thatcher). A good budget. Only 2p on beer which will make our Sam Smith's bitter 56p. Other breweries sell ale at 66p or even 70p. Dave and I were puzzled about the chancellor's statement on the subject of broad and narrow money. 'It all looks the same to me', said Dave. Beef curry. Dave slept in the chair and I went down and opened up at 5:30. Ally and Dave joined me later. Jane worked. A dead night. Drank Manderine napoleon liqueur brandy afterwards and asked Dave to stand as a sponsor at Samuel's baptism - whenever that might be. We get on so well, the three of us. To bed late.

Takings: (B) £124.44, (L) £104.04

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Monday March 12, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Dave G came carrying his large bag of belongings and looking very much the same as when I last saw him. We had roast beef and Yorkshire puddings. At 5:30 he came down with me to the dead bar and stood until closing time watching me work and laughing at Joan, who quite went to pieces on seeing the new tills. Ally came down __________. Later we had pie and peas then went off to bed.

Takings: (B) £137.14, (L) £108.65

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Sunday March 11, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

1st Sunday in Lent

A jolly old Sunday. Sausages and eggs with Graham and Gill. Then they went off to look at Anthony's flat. Apparently he has an eight foot glass topped dining table with stainless steel legs. The tarty Mandy came back, but missed seeing them. 

Rob (Piper) from the Butcher's Arms, came here. Just back from a horrible three-day event at Tadcaster, which involved play acting, role playing call it what you will, for Mike Walker at the brewery. It sounds quite hideous but we all have to go through it. I ran out of lager (I blame Graham's friend Mandy) and I had to borrow 18 gallons from the Station just down the road. The landlord there is a tenant and looked as if he was just returned from Mustique. Anthony came back at 2pm minus his Arabian 'bed mignon'. Gill tells us that Anthony's bedroom is all mirrors. It all shreiks of Lord Astor and Christine Keeler. Leather masks too. Graham and Gill returned to Coleford at 2:30.

Maurice Macmillan, recently styled Viscount Macmillan, son of 'Supermac', is dead, causing another by-election, this one in Surrey. No doubt it will kill off old Harold. The new heir and new Viscount is Alexander, Supermac's grandson. 

Walter Mondale's campaign appears to be wilting. A Kennedy clone by the name of Hart is sweeping in front in the caucuses. A president named Gary. Whatever next? Jane (Tudor) tonight. Samuel slept from 7pm until dawn and Ally came down for a couple of hours. 'Evil' Edna (as I call her) who sits at the bar in the tap room warned me about drugs in the back bar. She has eyes everywhere. Oh dear. Glynnie phoned. He's coming tomorrow.

Takings: (B) £116.34, (L) £183.88

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