Mary Killen

Mary Killen

Dear Mary | 22 November 2018

From our UK edition

Q. I am organising my 30th birthday party weekend at a large country house kindly lent to me by friends of my parents. The house sleeps 25. I’m drawing up a plan for bedroom distribution, and find myself in a predicament because there is a large disparity regarding the luxuriousness of the bedrooms. Some have stunning sea views with four-posters, claw-footed bathtubs and chandeliers, while others are converted servants’ rooms, have sloping attic ceilings, single beds, shared bathrooms and views of the car park. How do I allocate the bedrooms without causing offence to the ‘losers’? The truth is that the grander ones would suffer much more from the discomfort of the bad rooms than the ones unused to luxury. — B. R., Fulham, London A.

Dear Mary’s money matters

From our UK edition

Dear Mary answers some of your financial dilemmas: Q. A friend’s niece who got her first job last year and still lives with her parents is coming from Belgium to stay with him in his London flat. She has asked him to book a table for three (herself, my friend and his partner) at one of the most expensive restaurants in the capital. How can he make sure that she intends to treat them, as there is no way that they can afford a massive restaurant bill at the moment? R.T., Shropshire A. He should act daft and email or ring to say, ‘It’s a very generous thought but are you sure? We would be just as happy going somewhere less expensive and we are equally happy to cook dinner for you in the flat.’ Q.

Dear Mary | 15 November 2018

From our UK edition

Q. A difficult couple of our acquaintance always object to other guests at dinner and can be very rude to them. In consequence, we have fallen into a pattern of dining at each other’s houses in London, just the four of us. They are sticklers for what they see as correct behaviour. Last week, however, we were told, the day before we were due to host, that they had a friend staying the night; could they bring him along? This was someone I vaguely knew, but had not seen for 20 years, and someone my wife has never met. Neither of us desired his company. I suggested perhaps we choose another date, but feathers were ruffled. Mary, what would you suggest? — Name and address withheld A.

Dear Mary | 8 November 2018

From our UK edition

Q. At every drinks party one will be in mid-conversation with another guest and someone will walk over and loiter briefly. If I know the new arrival I will introduce them, and if not I will introduce both of us, and describe what we are discussing so the new person can join in. But I am bored by people who arrive and merely say to me or the other guest something like, ‘Oh I saw Milo in Scotland last week’, ending the original discussion and cutting out one of the original guests. — G.F., Gasper, Wiltshire A. Most people make this mistake out of nerves and are perfectly happy with a gentle prod to mind their manners so the conversation can continue to flow. There is no need for anyone to take offence.

Your problems solved | 1 November 2018

From our UK edition

Q. Previously a long-term and content single man, earlier in the year I began a relationship with a wonderful girl, despite warnings from friends that she had a reputation for suddenly and crushingly breaking the hearts of a string of boyfriends. I reassured myself and my friends that this was different and special. Months later, and happily committed to what I thought was a long future with her, with no signs to the contrary, inevitably I have been tossed aside via WhatsApp messages and a phone call. How can I avoid the pitying looks from those who warned me? — Name withheld, London SW3 A.

Dear Mary | 25 October 2018

From our UK edition

Q. My wife and I have been married for 50 years. The marriage is basically sound but she has recently developed a new maddening habit when we entertain. She waits until I am in the middle of an anecdote or story and then starts proffering plates of vegetables or more wine — this when everyone has already got well-filled glasses and everything on their plate they could possibly want. And of course they then have to say ‘No thank you’. These actions seem timed to sabotage my performances. When I take it up with her she always insists she is just being polite to our guests. — Name and address withheld A. This is a prime example of passive aggression. Your wife may be nursing a secret grudge against you.

Dear Mary | 18 October 2018

From our UK edition

Q. My fiancé and I spend many great weekends with another couple. I am a vegetarian and quite particular about certain food textures and I cannot stand slimy foods like overcooked mushrooms or undercooked eggs. The husband of our good friends prides himself on the brunches he rustles up on the Sunday of these weekends, presenting the others with full English breakfasts and me with scrambled eggs on toast. I don’t quite know what he does to these eggs but they appear in front of me in a semi-liquid form, soaking into the toasted bread. I really need to figure out a way to stop this without offending our hosts. We’ve got to the point where I am presented with a mountain of this gloopy mess without being asked. I cannot request just toast the night before.

Dear Mary | 11 October 2018

From our UK edition

Q. An old friend shares aesthetic sensibilities and tastes in people. Hence we have sustained a highly enjoyable correspondence over some decades. However, having recently had significant professional success, he is no longer fulfilling his side of the bargain. Even 1,000 words from me will now elicit only a perfunctory response. Yet whenever we meet in London he apologises that he is too busy to respond at length and begs me to continue with my own musings, on which he insists he ‘depends’. Mary, how, without seeming querulous, victimy or even ‘queeny’, can I make him see this has become an unfair exchange? — Name and address withheld A.

Dear Mary | 4 October 2018

From our UK edition

Q. I recently gave a jolly dinner for eight friends (some old, some rather famous), all home cooking, ending with petits-fours. The next morning, everything cleared away, husband out for the day, I relaxed by the open French windows, reading (still wearing my long Victorian nightgown). I was startled to see two of the guests smiling in, come to lend a book we’d talked about the night before. The husband, mildly embarrassed, looked out at the garden intently; the wife kept turning the pages of the book they’d brought. Neither showed signs of leaving. I determined to stay sitting comfortably, explained that I had decided to slum it as I was alone, and didn’t offer them coffee, as I felt it would prolong the awkwardness. What should I have done, Mary?

Your problems solved | 27 September 2018

From our UK edition

Q. My husband and I have been invited to the birthday party of a distinguished public figure with whom we have had a discreet, or, at least unboasted of, relationship over many years. The invitation is displayed on the dresser in our kitchen. Recently a woman visitor to our house saw the invitation and cried: ‘Wow! How did you two get invited to that?’ Mary, I felt her astonishment was not only maladroit but also passive aggressive. How should I have replied to her veiled insult? — Name and address withheld A. You might have responded: ‘Oh dear. I’m sorry. Have you not been invited? The only reason we’ve been is they’re trying to include lots of unglamorous worthies as an anti-elitist thing.

Dear Mary | 20 September 2018

From our UK edition

Q. A neighbour, a wonderful old friend in his late eighties, is a marvellous raconteur. As a family we have enjoyed his company for years. Our problem is that our children have entered their mid-teens and become pompous and intolerant. When we entertain at lunchtime they and their friends ruin the atmosphere by trying to gag our friend, complaining that his remarks are racist, homophobic, snobbish — the works. They particularly object to his imitation of foreign accents, one of his party turns. We love our children but this is causing tension at the table. What do you suggest? — E.D.G., Calne A. Explain to your children that it is in their own interest to humour your friend by laughing along with his jokes. It doesn’t mean they approve of them.

Dear Mary | 13 September 2018

From our UK edition

Q. Following a small dinner last night in a private house, I got home to find £300 missing from my handbag, which I’d left in the kitchen while we ate in a dining room. There were only eight guests, all of whom I’ve known for decades, and a loyal housekeeper who has worked for my friend for 20 years. My friend is a great offence-taker so I don’t feel I can tell her because she might impulsively sack the downtrodden housekeeper. On the other hand, if it was the housekeeper, she could one day clean out all my friend’s bank accounts so I do have a duty to mention it. But it could also just as easily have been one of the other guests who may have gone mad, or become a kleptomaniac. What should I do? — C.H., London SW3 A.

Dear Mary | 30 August 2018

From our UK edition

Q. I invited four younger colleagues, all in their mid to late thirties, to go for a meal at a rather special venue. I first invited A and B, who were sitting together at the time, then C and D, who were also sitting together. On the day, A and C arrived, expressing great enthusiasm and having dressed in their best; B and D simply did not turn up. When I mentioned it later, they breezily replied that they had had other plans. What I don’t understand is that when I gave the invitations out two people accepted and acted accordingly, while two agreed with near-identical wording, but failed to attend (meaning their replies were totally insincere). How do I know in future when someone’s ‘Yes I’d love to come’ means ‘I have no interest at all’?

Dear Mary | 23 August 2018

From our UK edition

Q. I live in a houseshare with two other people; one of whom I am very fond of and the other, not so much. She lies and cheats and is a terrible friend. She is a social climber extraordinaire who has abandoned her real friends. My other housemate is of the same opinion. The lease is coming up for renewal. We don’t want to move, so how do we get her out? She will not take this lying down. — Name and address withheld A. A calm three-step procedure will be necessary. Enlist the help of a monied friend, who has connections to both you and the good housemate. He should pay a visit to the house and declare, in front of the narcissist, that it’s his ideal property.

Dear Mary | 16 August 2018

From our UK edition

Q. My husband and I were among the first to arrive at a recent large house party in Scotland. We were shown to our bedroom at the far end of a corridor and told that the occupants of the other rooms were not expected till the next day. We were tired after a day’s travelling and hence when my husband annoyed me I’m afraid that, confident no one would overhear, I let loose with a full tirade rather in the manner of a fishwife. Later I was horrified to find another guest had in fact arrived and been billeted in the adjoining bedroom. Our stay was then overshadowed by paranoia. Had he heard? How could we find out? If he had, then what? — Name and address withheld A.

Your problems solved | 9 August 2018

From our UK edition

Q. Good friends, who moved away from our city suburb a couple of years ago, retain a pied-à-terre the better to pursue their sensitive professional lives. They are, however, not entitled to parking permits for themselves or their morning visitors, so for some time we have been passing on to them extra parking permits. When they come round to pick up (and pay for) these, we all enjoy a quick glass of wine together. They are intelligent and upstanding and we like them and can’t believe that they can be so insensitive as not to suggest other meetings where we could spend more time together. — Name withheld, London A. Such pied-à-terre owners must socialise with intent when in town, prioritising first business contacts, next pushy people.

Dear Mary | 2 August 2018

From our UK edition

Q. My husband doesn’t wash his hands after spending a penny and he doesn’t wash his hands after ‘spending tuppence’, as my grandmother put it, either. I know this as he uses the downstairs gents while I am hard by in the kitchen and I can monitor all the appropriate liquid sounds. When I was driven to raise it a few years ago he said: ‘Don’t be silly, I don’t defecate on my hands.’ I am aware that some men think it’s common to wash hands (in the Lords I heard they put washbasins in the men’s conveniences only within the past 50 years). Thoughts? — N.F., London W6 A.

Dear Mary | 26 July 2018

From our UK edition

Q. My wife’s much younger sister is lazy and impossible. She forgets birthdays, is invariably late, lets people down and seems to think it’s all a laugh. Examples: forgetting to put the Christmas lunch in to cook so we had to wait four hours for what turned into a very poor evening meal. Informing us of a serious heart condition via a two-line text message, to which my wife responded but then heard nothing. Her husband is similar, once berating my wife in public for not going to see her sister in hospital when we had not been informed that she was there. Her youngest daughter was 18 earlier this year and we sent her a cheque for £500, which we personally handed to her mother. We have heard nothing since, nor has the cheque been presented.

Dear Mary | 19 July 2018

From our UK edition

Q. A dear friend of my husband, a shy bachelor, is an acquired taste. Once you acquire it you are addicted, but he can make a bad impression on first meeting. This is because he normally always has dried food or some other kind of detritus which seems to collect around the corners of his mouth. None of his old friends notice this any more, nor do we tease him — as I said, he’s a tiny bit shy and rather ‘paranoid’. We adore him but do refer to him as ‘Sir Les’ (Patterson) among ourselves. The problem is that he and I are shortly both scheduled to meet someone who could be helpful with his career and it’s vital that he doesn’t alienate.

Dear Mary | 12 July 2018

From our UK edition

Q. A long-standing friend has an admirer of some means. He has invited her to borrow his fully staffed and equipped yacht and entertain a selection of guests, including myself, while we sail around the Med. I’ve become somewhat addicted to luxury and I’ve been so looking forward to this for weeks. I imagined myself lying on a lounger throughout, but I’ve now heard of a late addition to the line-up. My friend has confused good with good value and has misguidedly invited a man who has been immensely helpful in a professional capacity to some of those who will be on board. But I’ve been in a group with him before and he never draws breath. He will talk the whole way through this holiday, so being trapped on a boat with him means the break will not be restful.