Q. Have you any ideas on how to deal with recurrent offenders in the party-present line? I have an old and intimate friend who always brings a present almost insultingly slight, but, more seriously, also invariably well past its sell-by date. One small jar of pickle was two years too old. Other old friends contributed
Q. I love my husband but, when we go out together to parties, I often hear him saying things which both of us know are not true and which he is clearly saying just for effect or to keep the conversation moving along with no thought to the consequences of his talking such nonsense. I
Q. My problem may make me seem selfish and spoilt but I suspect that some of your readers will sympathise. Since I was a schoolgirl I have daydreamed about owning my own flat in Venice. Finally I have managed to buy a wonderful apartment there and it has now been restored to perfection and is
Q. In the last few days I have opened six separate letters asking for sponsorship for the London Marathon. Each one comes from either a godchild, a relation or a child of a really close friend. I think £100 is about the going rate but I can only afford £100, not £600. I cannot sponsor
Q. My husband is a retired scientist but still much in demand. Recently he was part of a small committee organising a world congress in Brisbane, judged to have been very successful, thanks in no small part to him. Every time we now meet one of the other committee members, a businessman, he teases my
Q. Ten years ago, at 15, I met the closest friend of my life. We did everything together and she grew so close to my whole family that, when her own rather difficult home life became too much, she even moved in with us. She has always been the person I felt I could turn
Q. I am at the mercy of a very over-the-top decorator provided by the management of our block of flats. He is like the worst sort of game-show host, cracking jokes all the time and bullying me and the young man working with him. I thought he was only here for four days but have
Q. I was brought up in South Africa and did graduate studies in the US. When I moved to London in the mid-1970s I encountered ‘put downs’ at dinner parties when I mispronounced aristocratic English surnames which I had only seen written. I had some exposure to them in South Africa but obviously not enough.
Q. My 12-year-old son and I braved the snow last week to keep an appointment for him to look at a school. On the much delayed journey back to Paddington I was walking through to the buffet car when I saw two friends of a friend who kindly suggested I fetch my son and come
Q. A friend and I have been working in the new Eliot Reading Room of the London Library and are very pleased with it (the Ladies’ in particular is very swish) but there is one drawback. A bespectacled man of Chinese appearance is in everyday, chomping his way through packets of gum, and making the
Q. My cousin and her husband recently went to a dinner party. When they compared notes later, it emerged that the husband had seen the cat before dinner with its paw and tongue in the butter dish, which was then placed on the table, and the wife had seen the cat sitting in the bowl
Q. Several chums have contacted me ‘as friends’ to alert me to the latest rumour about my extracurricular activities — to wit, according to the local Notting Hill bush telegraph, I am having an affair with a banker worth several hundred million in our social circle. As ever, I am last to know. This is
Q. I know someone who is a theatre producer, an extremely generous man who never says no to anyone, whose secretary is besieged with calls from friends of his wanting (often free) tickets for Oliver! How can she deal with this without offending them? How can he continue coming off like a saint? It is
Q. A friend from university invited my boyfriend and me to stay with her parents in a very grand house over New Year. We were made very welcome, but my boyfriend felt out of his depth in at least one instance and wonders what you would have advised. On New Year’s Day there was a
Q. I moved down from Scotland to London about two years ago with my family. When my husband is away or working late, I regularly have dinner with a (platonic) male friend who used to live near us up north. He now lives in north London and I live in south. We always meet at
Once again Mary has invited some of her favoured persons of distinction to submit Christmas queries. From Sir Tim Rice Q. I have recently employed a full-time driver. A friend (a well-known art dealer and social gadabout) has informed me and many of my close circle that it is considered common to sit in the
Q. I am godmother to a dear eight-year-old boy whose parents are separated. Every so often I try to see the little chap by inviting him to lunch in a smart restaurant for a treat. However the last two times that I have done this his father has trumped me by coming too and insisting
Q. I have a well-established and generally wonderful cleaning woman whose job, in her view, includes chatting. This was fine in the past when my children were out at school all day but now my 16-year-old son is attending sixth-form college and comes back to work at home between lessons. I have asked my ‘treasure’
Q. The art and engineering expertise of the modern corsetière has brought great happiness to men of a more traditional, and red-blooded, disposition. To what extent should one be permitted to address admiring glances at a well-presented embonpoint: in other words, at what stage does healthily lustful and artistic appreciation become a leer? And does
Q. At a packed piano recital the other night, we were the only ones who didn’t have white hair, so had every reason to expect good manners to prevail. Nevertheless, during Träumerei, a lady started peeling apart a cellophane wrapper. It was a long, loving and loud process, and to judge by the surreptitious movement