Dear Mary

From Emma Barnett Q. What do I do about the fact that my friends are all scared of the telephone and its primary purpose? I loathe endless texting and yet I keep worrying people by actually calling them. How do I stop people answering the phone with a breathless: ‘What’s happened? Are you OK? Has someone died?’ As someone who effectively talks for a living, is there a way back? A. Most juniors do tend to react with alarm to a non-prepositioned phone call. Dispel fear with a text, festooned with laughing face emojis, asking: ‘Can you speak?’ Then dial the number. From Emily Maitlis Q.

Q. My godfather, who has managed to get me a valuable internship in the Far East, has also sent me a business-class ticket to fly out there in the new year. I have seen how much the ticket costs (£3,800) and would much prefer to cash it in, go economy (£694) and spend the balance when I am there. But would it be rude to suggest this? – Name and address withheld A. First check with your godfather that he meant to buy you a business-class ticket – his secretary may have done it in error. Then offer to go economy. If he refuses, then make the most of the opportunity, but don’t try to cash the ticket in as the airline’s computer is likely to inform him of the change. Q. I’m a bachelor and as a spare man I often get asked away for the weekend.

Q. A close friend of my own age, 52, has had various things done to her face and now looks different. She definitely looks younger than 52 – certainly when photographed – but in real life the effect is just weird. I feel I can’t properly communicate with her, i.e. ‘read’ her. I have said this to her but she clearly thinks I’m just envious because she’s offered to front the money for me to have the same treatment. We are at an impasse. How can I rescue this long-term friendship when I don’t enjoy interacting with a frozen face and dread seeing her? – S.H., London W11 A. No need to fall out with this old friend. You can still have a laugh with her over the phone, on a walk or on a long drive. Q.

Q. I live in a small house in Hampstead and have taken in a friend of a friend as a lodger. He pays me a reduced rent for use of one of my spare bedrooms. I like him, but the agreement was that he would occupy the room for two nights a week; this, however, has started to slip into him being there for three, and often four, weeknights each week. I am livid but don’t know what to say to him. Neither I nor the friend who put us in touch with each other has any idea whether he is taking advantage of me or has just become forgetful. He is a widower. How do you think I should tackle this?  – S.M., London NW3 A. Collude with an imaginary friend (let’s call her Bertha), who will play ball to help you solve this dilemma.

Q. A very likeable woman has joined the company I work for and also just moved to my village. I said I would give a drinks party for her so she could meet a few people. My husband told me we should have a cap of 20. Now my colleague has asked if she can bring her two twentysomething children and their partners. This skews the numbers slightly, but the bigger problem is that she has also asked three neighbours of mine who have never been in the house before. She said she ‘assumed they would be welcome’. Well, there is a reason these three have never been in my house, and without wanting to sound pompous, their being entertained by me will disrupt the social ecology of the village. They will start asking me back and I will have to spend years saying no.

Q. An extremely old friend is a successful purveyor of high-end goods. Last time we saw him he invited us to a forthcoming Christmas party in Mayfair for his clients and people who have helped him get clients. We never got the email invitation, so I texted him and he said: ‘Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t send it. I’ll do it today.’ But two weeks later, still no sign of it. Do we just go to the party or not? If we don’t go we fear he might be cross that we had ‘taken offence’ when no written invitation arrived. Yet we also fear that he may have decided he doesn’t want us because he now has too many Big Spenders coming and doesn’t have room for us. – M.F., London SW3 A.

Q. Some friends of ours have an amazing house on the coast in Kenya. Every time we see them they are guaranteed to say ‘You must come to stay, you’d love it’ or something similar. No dates are ever forthcoming but we have decided we’d actually quite like to go this winter. How can we tie them down without making them feel pressurised by our having suggested dates? –  Name and address withheld A. Choose the dates which suit you, then contact them to say you are thinking of going to, for example, Tanzania, or other likely adjacent spot around that time. Is there any chance you could come to stay either before or afterwards?

Q. I was recently lent six books by a friend I see regularly for yoga. I was bemoaning the fact I didn’t have a novel on the go and she said she would bring one or two she has really enjoyed for me to borrow. I have read one and started another but I can tell they are not really for me. How do I get around this conundrum without insulting her taste in literature? – H.E., Tavistock, Devon A. Can you return them saying you ended up only reading one because you’ve rediscovered your passion for something like knitting? Also do say what you thought of the one you did read. As for insulting the taste of your friend, you are presuming too much to think that she will be insulted, rather than pitying you for your poor taste. Q.

Q. My son’s new girlfriend is really sweet but my husband and I find it annoying how she puts her hand in front of her mouth when she’s eating. A friend has told me that a lot of that generation do it for some reason. Any clever ideas as to how we could stop her, Mary? – Name withheld, Oxfordshire A. Gen Z (aged 13-28) often instinctively cover their mouths when eating for fear of social media consequences if photographed. However, the habit must stop now the girl has entered civilised society. Enlist  a compliant child, aged roughly six, to join you at the table and cover her own mouth when eating. When questioned by the grown-ups, the little girl can declare: ‘I’m copying “Lucy”!

Q. I am shortly to attend a big London party at which I will see many old acquaintances. However, first there was Covid, then I went to live in New York: so while other guests have been seeing each other on and off over the past five years, I have not. I will undoubtedly keep offending people as I fail to recognise those whose appearances have inevitably changed but who will have no difficulty recognising me as I am on television. Mary, how should I prepare for this? – P.M., London W8 A. Get hold of a pair of thick-lensed glasses – perhaps from a charity shop. Snap them in two at the bridge. Bring these out of your pocket when people approach and show them saying: ‘You’ll have to tell me who you are. I’ve just broken these and I can’t see a thing.’ Q.

Q. My printer is broken, so I asked my neighbour to print off a letter for me. It was from my doctor. I wanted to show it to my husband, who hates reading things on a computer. I hadn’t realised it had two attachments on the bottom with information of a very personal matter. Our neighbour kindly came round with the print-offs, including the attachments. We used to walk our dogs together but now I am so embarrassed I can’t look him in the face. What can I do? – Name and address withheld A. Contact the neighbour to arrange a dog walk as per normal. When you meet up, burst into gales of laughter and claim that you cannot believe that he fell for your practical joke: ‘We went to so much trouble to fake that letter and attachments.

Q. A decade ago I commissioned a handmade velvet opera coat from a fabulous local designer. She was then struggling (although is now highly sought after) so I sent quite a few customers her way. She made for each of them a bespoke coat, like mine, but each had its own individual distinctive lining. I was vaguely aware I hadn’t seen my coat for a while but this week, at a fundraiser, I saw it being worn. I rushed across to my neighbour and said words to the effect of: ‘Oh thank goodness you’ve got my coat. Now I remember I left it at your house when we came to dinner. You must have muddled it with yours!’ She looked furious and said it was definitely her coat, the one she had commissioned. I could tell by the lining that it was mine.

Q. I have been booked to give my first talk on my field of professional interest. I happen to have found out that a slightly competitive friend, with no interest in the subject, has bought a ticket. I fear she knows full well that her surprise appearance in the (small) specialist audience and the cynical expression on her face will be enough to throw me off my stride completely. Mary, how can I ask her not to come without falling out with her? – Name and address withheld A. Pretend not to know she is coming. Instead outsmart her by requesting the organisers employ a well-known trick of stagecraft. Arrange for you to be brightly lit, while the auditorium is arranged in near or complete darkness.

Q. A woman in our village has written a romantic novel in which one of the leading characters is said to be based on me. I understand that the character is glamorous but he is also preposterous. While I know that, technically, such a fictional portrait is a compliment to the person it is modelled on, as long as not libellous, I don’t really like the idea of my neighbour ‘scoring points’ over me while simultaneously mocking me. I therefore don’t want to read the novel as I fear it may undermine me. However, we are a close-knit community and I don’t want to be unsupportive by not reading it, as this novel has allegedly been the financial saving of her. I know I will be expected to comment, as we run into each other all the time.

Q. I have accepted an invitation to a five-day house party in Scotland. I know it is a breach of etiquette to ask, and I wouldn’t dream of pulling out, having committed, but how can I find out who else will be there? I am very easygoing, but there will be roughly 18 other guests and I would just like to know what I am letting myself in for. – B.F., Lymington, Hants A. Contact your host to suggest a house present you would love to bring. Explain that the jobless graduate daughter of a friend is trying to set up as a bespoke calligrapher, allegedly producing beautiful handmade ‘place à table’ cards. She may not be any good but you would like to support her by giving her a commission. Could she give you the names of everyone in the house party?

Q. A good friend often cycles over when I invite him for drinks. The trouble is he insists on turning up slightly sweaty in Lycra, and it makes things awkward when other guests are in jackets and dresses. Mary, how can I steer him towards something more civilised without causing offence? – B.H., London SW3 A. Begin a tradition of taking a group photograph in front of your grandest backdrop. Mention casually on the invitation: ‘We’ll take a quick photo when everyone has arrived.’ Few men will risk posterity, or indeed Instagram, in Lycra. Your friend will find himself spontaneously smartening up his act without your having to intervene. Q.

Q. My twins’ birthday is coming up, but we will be in the country. Their godparents are usually punctilious, but will send things to the London address. How do I let them know that we will be away, without sounding like I’m expecting them to send presents? – P.W., London NW1 A. Ask them to lunch shortly before you go away. The subject of your imminent departure for the country will naturally come up at the lunch. If they can’t come, say: ‘Oh well, I would ask you the following week but we will be away in the country.’ Q. My husband and I recently went on a ten-day cruise, hoping to spend time together without too many social interruptions.

Q. I am soon to entertain a house party on a sporting estate. We took the same house last year and all went well, except the housekeeper complained to the owner that we’d let our guests ‘tramp through the house in their trainers and boots’. This was a misrepresentation but it’s true that the odd guest, dashing back to their room for a mobile, might have failed to spend five minutes unlacing and relacing boots. We don’t want to be banned from the property in future so, given human nature, how can I enforce the boots-off rule this year without causing bad vibes? – V.P., Malmesbury A. You can easily sidestep this nuisance by buying multiple packs of disposable surgical overshoes and leaving these on prominent display in the boot room area.

Q. My friend has had an irritating experience in our local cinema. She speaks fluent French and teaches it in secondary school. Her enjoyment of a very good French film with English subtitles was ruined by a group of women in the back row laughing loudly each time a joke was made in French, before the subtitles appeared. This ruined the experience for my friend, who often sees French films there. How should she shut these show-offs up if they do it again? – E.S., Sussex A. Loud laughter is unacceptable in any circumstances, let alone in a small screening room. However ‘erudition signalling’ is a plague of all arts venues. At the opera, know-alls disrupt by chortling merrily at incomprehensible libretto jokes before the surtitle appears.

Q. While on holiday in Corfu, we met a rather nice man who invited us to his house for dinner. The house turned out to be something of a palace. There were six of us around the table and a waitress came towards us. She had a tray with a bowl, sitting in a bed of ice, and a tin of caviar, with a mother-of-pearl teaspoon, surrounded by ice within that bowl. Caviar is my favourite food and I can remember every mouthful I have ever had – but I hardly ever have it. The waitress presented the bowl to me first. I didn’t want to be gauche and ask my host how much I should take, so I took just one teaspoon. But as the bowl moved around the table, I could see everyone else taking much more – about ten times as much – and we were never offered seconds.