Q. Caught in Switzerland as the ski resort shut down around my ears, and feeling like a walking health hazard, I returned to Somerset to begin splendid isolation days before it became fashionable or mandatory. I’ve been getting loads of jobs done, and the dog is happier than ever, but my peace is being perforated by London friends — the sort who associate solitude with boredom — inviting me to virtual dinner parties on Zoom at a set time with the inescapable tagline ‘we know that you have no other engagements’. After a busy day out in the garden, all I want to do is settle by the log burner with a sausage supper and catch up on MasterChef. Mary, how can I show compassionate support to those who can’t cope with their own company without compromising my own sanity?
— R.B., not in London SW3
A. Just when grumpy old men thought they had the perfect excuse to withdraw from all social intercourse, they have been caught out by Zoom. However, you might take a tip from a much-loved Yorkshire isolator who tells me: ‘One very genuine reason for me to refuse is that I have been spending several hours most evenings, maybe four or five, when I might otherwise be watching Netflix, on the telephone. The calls are mostly to people trapped in their house who would not want to join Zoom as they want something more personal.’ Why not do the same? You can then explain that this leaves you no time for virtual dinner parties. Key to this tactic is that you should actually have the conversations — you must know plenty of deserving interlocutors. The difference is that, as the originator, rather than the stuck monkey, you will not feel threatened by them.
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