From Tina Brown Q. I have been dogged all my career as ‘the Queen of Buzz’, which makes people assume I love being in the centre of the social scene. Nothing is further from the truth. Though I will always be an action junkie, I am also a bookworm and a misanthrope, and I live
Q. I have a dear friend who is in a newish relationship. The partner – whom I hardly know – recently visited my city, asked to stay, and groped me soon after arriving. I would like to maintain my relationship with my friend, but if I invite him for dinner he’ll ask to bring his
Q. My husband has a stressful job and needs to quietly decompress at the end of the week. This is also the time of year when he has the most sporting invitations and we are often driving 100 miles or more on a Friday night. Our problem is that, due to the nature of the
Q. I have been working in London as a receptionist in a private members’ club and consequently have had the opportunity to meet and chat to a number of single men – always while sitting safely behind my desk. Now I have left the job, one of these members has started direct messaging me and
Q. My wife worked in the picture department of a very reputable auction house but has now taken to retirement with great enthusiasm. However, friends are constantly contacting her for free advice, valuations etc. They usually start with: ‘I know you’ve retired, but this won’t take you very long…’ She finds this irritating, yet doesn’t
Q. To my surprise I have been asked to give a eulogy at the funeral of someone I knew only quite well. I accepted more out of embarrassment than for any other reason but I will feel rather bogus delivering this encomium when there will be much closer friends present who may rightly be annoyed
Q. I am a concierge for a high-net-worth individual. She likes to communicate with me mainly via WhatsApp voice messages and it’s not unusual to receive ten of these a day. The messages are often lengthy and I find it tedious having to listen carefully right to the end in case I miss some vital
Q. I have a very dear friend who lives in Scotland, so we rarely see each other. Before the internet existed, we would call each other on the landline two or three times a year for a pleasant catch-up, and meet sporadically. However, since the onslaught of social media, my friend has taken to sending
Q. We want to keep on good terms with a potential grandson-in-law but he does not have the right kit. This doesn’t always matter these days, but it mattered when we took him and our granddaughter to our local racecourse. He came in a suit which he boasted he had not worn since school. He
Q. I meet a very old and dear friend for lunch on a regular basis. We meet at a lovely family-run Italian restaurant in Charlotte Place in Fitzrovia because it is exactly halfway between where we both live. Over the years it has become rather beyond our means but we don’t like to break with
Q. I am at a dinner and the man on my right won’t turn and I am staring ahead feeling ultra self-conscious and victimy. The table is too wide for the people opposite to help out. What to do? – L.P., London W11 A. Twenty years ago the answer to this question would have been: ‘Place
Q. Fewer people carry cash. The traditional pourboire is at risk. I am bored with lending money to our otherwise lovely house guests. Would it be unmentionably vulgar to install simple swipe card machines in the spare bedrooms? Please advise, I would be grateful. – N.C., Stanton St Bernard, Wilts A. Swipe machines are not
Q. We live in an area with no mobile reception and trying to get hold of taxis for guests leaving late at night or early morning after a party is nerve-racking. We have only two local taxi firms, both of which stop working after 10 p.m. When taxis from outside the area try to find the
Q. I made a number of friends with other mothers when my sons were at school, and we have carried on meeting up for regular lunches. I can’t afford these now, as even ‘cheap’ restaurants seem to cost £35, but I can’t entertain at home for various reasons. What do you suggest? – A.T., London
Q. A friend, who I love dearly and who comes to stay a lot, has always been unforthcoming with gifts. I personally don’t resent this. I know his problem is not meanness but a neurosis about spending. He more than makes up for it by being wonderfully entertaining and sympathetic company. Another woman, having seen
Q. We have some neighbours who we don’t mind at all – they are perfectly nice, just not part of our friendship group. We have heard they are heading to Majorca, to the same town where we have a holiday home, and will be there at the same time as us. We are now dreading
Q. We love having friends to stay at our house in Cornwall. One particular guest has the habit of arriving with the contents of her fridge, which she crams into mine. This can range from a two litre bottle of milk with enough left in it for a cup of tea, to a pot of half-eaten
Q. I have been pitched into a social dilemma regarding Glyndebourne, which I live near to but don’t go to often. A friend (who lives in Kent) asked me a while ago to be his plus-one at a young person’s wedding local to me. He mentioned he might try to get two last-minute tickets for
Q. I have invited some younger friends to stay with me at a family house in Spain. Among the party will be an excellent young fellow who I sense is attracted to my niece, who will also be joining us for a few days. Were I to ask if she is interested, she would think
Q. What should I do if my housekeeper refuses to clean my nanny’s bedroom and bathroom? I am worried they will turn into a tip. – M.C., London A. Today’s competent London nannies are so highly paid that yours may have developed delusions of grandeur. Your housekeeper is quite right to refuse. Why not tell
