Manners

Q. Financially successful friends have kindly invited my husband and me to stay for a week in France. Our problem is that last time we went they asked each couple to post €200 for tips through the hatch of a postbox-style container so they could share out the money appropriately after everyone had left. Named envelopes were discouraged on the grounds that ‘I trust you all’. Annoyingly, later that year, I happened to overhear my host mention that one couple (of the ten staying) had failed to contribute. Mary, how can I ensure that he knows we have paid our dues when the moment comes round again? – J.L., Cornwall

Q. A great friend is in a terrible state regarding a cat foisted on her by a close relation. She has become very attached to it but it keeps going next door through her neighbour’s cat flap and eating the neighbour’s cats’ food. The neighbour is a high-profile elderly lady who is getting annoyed. My friend, who is supposed to be getting on with her next book, is now reduced to standing with a water pistol ready to squirt her cat if it tries to enter the neighbour’s house. My friend has offered to pay for a digital cat flap but the neighbour has replied that in the warm weather

Q. My brother’s social life has dried up since his divorce (which coincided with the pandemic). So when he received a ‘save the date’ notice to a big mixed-generation party in August, I was happy to think of him catching up with old friends. Now he has been told that the party is to be themed and guests are expected to dress up as their favourite fast food. I am sure the younger guests will embrace this idea with enthusiasm, but my brother is balking at the thought of having to create such a costume. The hosts are great fun but are being quite bossy about the dress code and

Q. I live in the Hampshire countryside, in a lovely apartment where I have the use of an old walled garden which I share with the occupant of the adjacent apartment. My issue is with my neighbour, an elderly eco-warrior. His latest crusade involves building a variety of hedgehog hotels scattered about the garden. My subtle suggestions that Mr and Mrs Tiggywinkle would struggle to scale the heights of the garden walls have fallen upon deaf ears. To make matters worse, Mr Samuel Whiskers and his wife Anna Maria have now taken up residence in one of these five-star abodes, and I worry that before long there will be the

Q. My husband has developed an irksome habit whenever he goes abroad without me. We have cameras outside the house which are programmed to alert him by iPhone when anyone comes or goes. As soon as I go into the garden I receive WhatsApp messages commenting on my activities, such as ‘I’m not sure you watered the garden for long enough’ and ‘You forgot to bolt the shed door’. Mary, I find this ‘spying’ annoying – what should I do? — J.F., London SW12 A. An internet connection is required to allow security camera footage to be accessed remotely. Therefore, when you wish to enjoy some privacy in your own

Q. Rory Sutherland recently wrote about high-end takeaways (Wiki Man, 19 February). In the last London lockdown, I was fortunate to use the Supper app to try a number of gourmet takeaways from places such as Nobu, Coya Mayfair and Park Chinois, spending up to £100 per head. What surprised me, given that someone had driven halfway across town at speed to deliver the food, was that no service charge was added. I considered this far greater service and effort than one receives in a restaurant, but my fellow diners were aghast when I insisted on giving 10-20 per cent as a tip to the driver. What is the correct

Q. Recently I started hanging out with a new friend. We are both in our twenties, single, and usually go to gatherings and talks downtown. I’m working part-time and studying, she has graduated and is working full-time. We both live in the suburbs, not too close to each other. I drive, she doesn’t, and she refuses to use public transportation. The result is, she asks that I chauffeur her around, while normally I would use public transportation. She does reimburse me for petrol, but this is money I’d rather not spend. On top of this, she wishes to go out dining every time we meet up, and Mary, frankly I

Q. Three weeks ago I banged my head on the lower branch of our near neighbours’ tree, which I couldn’t see from under my peaked cap. I delivered a polite and non-threatening letter explaining that I wasn’t badly hurt and that the branch of their tree overhanging the pavement was a danger they should kindly arrange to remove. Although they were in residence, I received no acknowledgement of my letter, but this morning their entire tree came crashing down in the storm. Mary, please advise how I should write to thank them for their courtesy in arranging this divine intervention? — T.L. (86), London NW11 A. For all sorts of

Q. As if it wasn’t bad enough to overhear one side of a conversation as it’s bellowed into a mobile telephone, there is now a worse menace on trains and in restaurants. Those using the speaker function for calls are creating intolerable noise pollution because others nearby are forced to overhear both the tinny caller from down the line and a voice raised to compensate for the distance between mouth and microphone. Mary, have you got any idea how to tackle this? — L.G., Fosbury, Wilts A. If you record a 30-second snatch of the conversation on your own smartphone (using the ‘voice memos’ app or similar) and then use

Q. My partner’s work involves him seeing and talking to people all day, every day. I booked us on to a slightly naff though luxurious 12-night cruise in the Med, thinking this would be the perfect antidote since most of the other passengers will be elderly Americans and we would be bound to know no one else on board. I now hear that most people on cruises want to make friends and we are bound to be invited to join others for dinner. To answer truthfully I would say: ‘I’m afraid my partner is suffering from People Poisoning and doesn’t want to meet anyone new.’ But of course we couldn’t

Q. My husband and I have made friends with two distinguished, although fairly eccentric, writers whose company we thoroughly enjoy. However when we go to stay with them in their large London house they give us rather too many jobs to do. Of course we don’t mind helping out with food preparation, dishwashers, laying tables — we would expect to do this as, unlike us, they have no staff. However, they also ask us to clean windows, vacuum, clean silver and rake dead leaves as though we are all students sharing an Airbnb. Unfortunately we are in our sixties and these demands ensure that we return from the weekends exhausted.

Q. I treat myself to a manicure every ten days. It’s a 30-minute appointment and the girl I use is always fully booked. I turned up — punctual as always — for my appointment this week to be told that the client before me had been stuck in traffic and so my manicurist was ‘running late’. It turned out to be a wait of 12 minutes and she ended up giving me rather a rushed job. I looked at my watch when I left, and saw that she had made up her lost time at my expense and I felt short-changed. This isn’t the first time it has happened. Mary,

Q. My cleaner is industrious and trustworthy but she doesn’t have many people to talk to and evidently looks forward to her shifts as social occasions. She loves having a captive audience (my brother and I are currently WFH) and her conversation consists mainly of complaints, so it’s never a fun chat. It’s generally a bit of a downer and lending a sympathetic ear is becoming rather exhausting. I always end up going for a walk during her shift, even though it doesn’t suit me. It has taken me so long to find a half-decent cleaner that I don’t want to let her go. Mary, what should I do? —

Q. I live alone, happily and remotely, but many miles from my immediate family. My son’s wife has very kindly taken it on herself to telephone every day to check on my wellbeing. Apparently she feels that, by so doing, she is giving me the chance to have ‘a chat’. I am grateful, of course, but my problem is that she talks for at least ten minutes each time and, unfortunately, what she has to say is not exactly scintillating. I am concerned that if this goes on, she will start to worry that I find her boring, so can you think of a tactful way in which I can

From Lady Antonia Fraser Q. I enjoy getting readers’ letters, but there is one category I am at a loss how to deal with. These are from readers who inform me that in another life, another incarnation, they were one of my historical characters, their present lives being generally very different. Most striking was the vicar’s wife who wrote to me after reading my King Charles II: ‘I am now the hard-working wife of a clergyman but in another life I was that naughty minx Nell Gwyn.’ Occasionally there has been aggression: ‘How dare you write about my wife, Mary Queen of Scots?’ signed ‘formerly Lord Darnley’. A great many

Q. I will shortly be attending a major social gathering in London at which I can look forward to seeing some dear old friends and speaking to them in person for the first time in many months. Therein lies the problem. I will probably not be able to speak to these key people. I can anticipate that, just when I am properly engaging with someone who is normally too busy to talk on the telephone, and with whom I have a lot of ground to cover, a ‘person from Porlock’ will hove into view and bring our intimate chat to a halt. Mary, my question is: how, without being rude,

Q. Our two daughters often bring friends down for the weekend. These friends are more than welcome; we enjoy their company and most have perfect manners — except they never leave a tip. Our daughters claim that no one of their age group (early twenties) carries cash and that even if they remind their guests to bring some to leave in their room, they are so unused to using cash points that most of them still forget. How should I insist without striking a bullying or inhospitable note? — N.H., Bridport, Dorset A. Make it easier for the guests by casually mentioning that you have been out to a cashpoint

Q. During lockdown I made good friends with a neighbour who I would never have met otherwise. This man lives so close that he now regularly comes to informal dinners at our house. Unfortunately he has a habit of ‘double dipping’ his used fork into jars of redcurrant jelly, mustard, whatever — even though I always supply saucers and teaspoons. It means I have to throw away half-full jars when he has left. How can I stop this without drawing attention to his table manners and making him feel too shy to come again? I want to introduce this adorable man to other friends but feel I can’t while he

Q. I have recently become a widow. Since my son is away at university, I had the idea of charging a modest rate to informally rent out his bedroom to friends and friends of friends who happen to need a bed in the city for a night. I include dinner and breakfast in the rate but can still make a much-needed profit. My problem is that some charming friends of friends have booked in twice and want to make it a regular thing, but they insist on taking me out for a slap-up dinner at a smart restaurant in lieu of the small payment. I don’t think they are remotely