Manners

If the novelty of going for a walk doesn’t wear thin for the marauding masses soon, I am going to have to buy a laminator. I’ve bought so many warning signs off the internet telling townies what they can’t do around livestock, I might have to learn how to make signs myself. A bulk order of ‘Dogs Must Be on a Lead at All Times’ had to be placed during lockdown as we started to attract people who would rather be at Westfield shopping centre. I affixed them along the fence line inside my field, along with traffic cones and stripy roadworks barriers, because although walkers should not be in

Q. Unlike my wife, I am tiring of Netflix. Wanting a project to occupy me during these long dark nights, I invested in a marvellous wooden jigsaw puzzle from Wentworth. The 1,000-piece fine art seascape arrived and I set up a table and chair in our library in anticipation of weeks of quiet gratification. I spent the first few evenings laboriously working on the edges but this week I have seen that there has been progress made without my input. My wife and I can only assume that the culprit is our cleaner of 35 years, thinking that by adding pieces she is ‘helping’. I know she would be offended

Q. For many years my boss gave each member of his small team a very generous Christmas gift voucher from John Lewis. I was always able to put this to good use and looked forward to receiving it. Unfortunately he decided last year that these vouchers were a bit unfestive and instead we each received a large hamper from an upmarket grocer. While I know that some of my colleagues actually preferred the hamper, my husband and I were disappointed. Crystallised ginger, truffle crisps, mini Christmas puddings and jars of obscure paté sadly do not suit our perhaps unsophisticated palates, although we managed to regift most of it quite successfully.

Q. My son has moved his girlfriend into our fairly small house for the second lockdown. I am grateful for their company, but unfortunately his girlfriend has started addressing me in a baby voice. My son either hasn’t noticed or doesn’t seem to mind. Mary, as I suspect she is a little nervous of me, how can I tactfully let her know how annoying this is without ruffling feathers? She also ‘pony-trots’ between rooms, but I don’t mind that nearly as much as the baby voice.— Name and address withheld A. Collude with a good friend to call you on your mobile, timed for a moment when the three of

Q. I have a delightful young goddaughter who, thanks to the virus, I have not seen since last year. Her next birthday is looming, but since she never thanked me for my present last year, I am disinclined to give another. However, there may be a mitigating factor. Last year while her mother and I were cheering her on in a hockey match, I handed the mother a bundle of cash to give her daughter on her birthday a few days later when she had an exeat. Now I wonder if the mother even remembered to pass it on. The trouble is I can’t ask her directly: first because, if

Q. Is there a tactful way to wind up a Zoom call when one of you has more time on their hands than the other? A friend, living alone in London, Zooms me on a regular basis. He is immensely good value — and as a successful stage actor is clearly missing the audience he would have were it not for lockdown. Much as I would love to be entertained by him for lengthy periods, I need to get things done while the children are at school. How can I halt his flow without wounding his ego? — M.N., Tetbury, Glos A. With a small amount of preparation you can

Q. I would welcome your advice on a tricky family matter. For my 70th birthday earlier this year my brother gave me a voucher for £100. This could be used as credit towards a drawing of my cat to be commissioned from an artist friend of his. I duly provided photos, only to learn that the £100 would represent just 20 per cent of the list price, and the balance to be paid by me would be £400. I am wondering whether my brother is doing his friend a favour at my expense — indeed in my most churlish moments I doubt whether my brother even paid £100 to his

Q. An old friend offered to treat me to a birthday lunch, provided I choose and book the restaurant myself. (He has always hated admin.) On booking, the restaurant asked me for a £50 deposit — this to deter no-shows — and I was told this would be refundable on our arrival. When the bill was presented my friend characteristically just handed over his card without even glancing at it. The next day, on noting that my deposit had not been refunded, I rang up this agreeable local restaurant. It turned out there had been a misunderstanding. They had not refunded my account but had instead reduced my friend’s bill

Q. I am running out of suitable responses to a friend who now has the slightest possible connection to one of our ancient seats of learning. He never mentions his own child (who is at a very new, very undistinguished university) but goes into endless detail about his girlfriend’s daughter who is in her final year at Cambridge. In particular he can’t resist sharing his delight at being allowed to drive down Trinity Street to drop off her luggage, and the excitement he feels every time one of the college servants doffs his hat and calls him ‘Sir’. Having listened to this same anecdote at least twice a term for

Q. Many years ago I was asked to officiate at a funeral for a family I did not know. As far as I was concerned the service went neither better nor worse than any other and afterwards I went along to what the undertaker used to call ‘the bunfight’ at the local pub. The mourners were facing the door and could see me come in; the widower however could not. As I approached, he began to tell the group why he wasn’t happy with the service and the things I had and hadn’t said. The guests were clearly mortified and I, not knowing what to do, simply stood like a

Q. My husband and I have spent many happy weekends in the seaside cottage of long-standing friends. Knowing how much we love it there, they have suggested that when they go away on a forthcoming long trip abroad, we should leave the city and move into their cottage. We are hesitating because they have cameras both inside and outside the cottage and, as they often mention how being able to view the footage puts their minds at ease wherever they are in the world, we are certain they will be tempted to check up on us if we stay there. Obviously we would love to go, but how could we

Q. I have just been out to my first lunch in months. Ten of us sat around a table in a beautiful garden with wonderful food and good company. My problem was that I couldn’t fully enjoy the occasion because I felt self-conscious. I could think of nothing to say to either of the (first-rate) men who flanked me. No swanks, but I used to be considered good company — and during this lunch it dawned on me that I’ve become incredibly boring, possibly because I haven’t done anything or seen anyone for so long. Mary, I can only hope that it will become easier once I start to see

Q. Some friends persist on displaying our email addresses in large address lists when sending out round robins to all of their friends. How may I tactfully ask them to blind copy me, GDPR and all that? In chain recipe and joke emails, before you know it, there are 200 addresses included: a hacker’s dream, I’m told.— Name and address withheld A. Quite right. You need to spell out, to wilful Luddites, the potential nuisances that could arise from not using the ‘Bcc’ box. Next time reply with an email which shows only your own name in the ‘To’ section. Open with a reassurance, clearly meant for all, that everyone

Q. For professional reasons it is important that I am not fat. However I have put on more than a stone and a half during lockdown. This would not matter in the short term as I am not required to appear anywhere physically for some weeks and am already on a successful weight-loss programme. My problem is that one of my competitors, so to speak, rang to say that she is going to be in the area and could she drop in for lunch. My kind but unthinking husband picked up and told her that she would be welcome. Under no circumstances can I let her see how fat I

Q. My son is having his 30th birthday next weekend and has invited 50 friends to a garden party. We thought it would have been okay to host a party by now, but government guidelines say it is illegal to have more than 30 people. How does he reduce the numbers? One way to do it might be to have a live Zoom chat and pick the names out of a hat. That would also give my son the opportunity not to put a name in if a friend has a partner he doesn’t get on with. Would this work? — Name and address withheld A. Even if one undesirable

Q. On my way to Devon recently I stopped for lunch with an impeccably mannered friend. He produced first crab meat, then smoked salmon with a delicious salad of avocado, lettuce etc. Halfway through I noticed he had four or five prawns on his plate and I had none. As prawns are one of my favourite foods I vocalised my disappointment. He was mortified but could not transfer any prawns to my plate for fear of coronavirus. Should I have kept my mouth shut, Mary?— E.S., Ripe, Sussex A. No, but you could have proceeded differently. You might have set your host at his ease by gushing: ‘Oh you haven’t

Q. We invited two friends to supper in London. As they came in they said they should order their taxi home before we began to drink as they now had to pre-book. They then discussed the booking time between themselves and agreed on 11.30 p.m. But Mary, we wanted them to leave at 10.30 at the latest. How could we have conveyed this without making them feel unwelcome? — Name and address withheld A. You can pre-empt overstaying in future by outlining a time scale as you issue the invitation. For example, you could say to them: ‘Could you possibly come early, e.g. 7 or 7.30, as we have to

Q. I am not expected to pay rent at the cottage which has been lent to me by a super-kind friend-of-a-friend who stepped in when she heard I would be homeless in the short-term. Unfortunately she didn’t mention that, although there is wifi in the cottage, the signal is so patchy it effectively means I can’t work here. Even mobile phone calls keep cutting out and I have to walk for a mile up a hill to be able to speak to anyone. How can I, without seeming ungrateful, get across the message that, generous as she has been, in 2020 a cottage without reliable wifi is no good to

Q. Our daughter is going ahead with her wedding despite the restriction on guest numbers. Although it is a relief not to have to worry about (and pay for) the 150 people originally expected, another problem arises when the numbers are so limited that guests cannot get away from each other. We want to have five tables of six at the reception, but many of our older guests hold unfashionable views and would be incapable of self-censorship. Looking at all possible variants of the seating plan, I can see no way of sidestepping some incendiary juxtapositions. Some of the young guests are especially intolerant of diversity of opinions, and I