Q. At the Ludlow Piano Festival, during a Tyler Hay concert, my husband and I spotted a fascinating-looking couple who were fellow members of the audience. We longed to know who they were and are kicking ourselves that we never found out the identity of this charismatic pair. During the interval we could have approached them but didn’t want to seem pushy or pervy by just introducing ourselves. What could we have said?
– S.S., Abergavenny
A. ‘Sorry to bother you but do you happen to be a friend of Derek Duck? Oh… he gave us a jumper to return to someone he said would be at this concert but we stupidly can’t remember the name of whoever it is. We’ve asked all the other likely men here. By the way, I’m Sylvia Smug and this is my husband Cedric – and you are?’
Q. I am part of a ladies’ book club with many good friends. Recently, however, almost the entire duration is spent sharing photos of grandchildren along with discussions on their progress. I am yet to become a grandmother and now rather dread these evenings. I feign interest, yet it is flagging. How can I steer the conversation back to book matters without offence? – T.J., London SW6
A. Arrive first. As the others drift in, announce that you are longing to get off your chest an encounter you’ve just had with a plumber, but you’re aware you are meant to be talking about the book and so you have brought an oven timer so you don’t go on for more than three minutes. Finish your anecdote as the bell rings.
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