Etiquette

Q. My 50th birthday is looming and I am hosting a small dinner in a restaurant. This has proved challenging as I have at least 40 people I like but can only ask 25. However, of those I have already asked, ten are still hedging with ten days to go. If these A-listers would just admit they’re unable to come, I could ask people from my B-list. How can I pin down the flaky non-committers? — O.A., London SW6 A. Email the hedgers a photo of the menu saying the restaurant is asking you to firm up orders. Could they specify their preference in the way of fish, meat or vegan? This will force the slackards to show their hands. Q. Yesterday I was sent a beautiful bunch of flowers, anonymously.

Q. My husband and I are excited to have been invited to dinner by our most important neighbour. However our neighbour is fairly correct so I imagine it will go down like a lead balloon if I ask for his wifi code as soon as I walk in. The problem is that now I own a smartphone, everyone knows I’m accessible at all times, and I like to discreetly glance at my emails to reassure myself that there is nothing urgent. Should I pop in earlier in the day with flowers and ask for the code then? — S.C., Tetbury A. I fear you are out of date. Your emails will continue to flood in as normal without your host’s wifi code. The only reason to need it would be if staying overnight and, for example, wanting to download expensive content without using your data allowance.

Q. We were about to send off to the printers the invitation for our son’s wedding (we agreed to do this bit) but now the prospective in-laws are asking for the use of the word ‘with’, as in ‘You are invited to the marriage of Lady X with Mr Y’. We have noticed that ‘with’ is used in the marriage invitation of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle and understand that it conveys the implication that one party (the first named) is socially superior to the other. What should we think? — Name and address withheld A. My most highly placed observer declares that ‘This is a highly royal usage which it would be common for a commoner to imitate.

Q. Along with five of my favourite people, I’ve been invited again to what should be an idyllic house party in Scotland this summer. The house, the landscape, the food and the sport could not be better, and our mutual friend is a brilliant host capable of great empathy and wit — 99 per cent of the time. However it is the 1 per cent risk of a glitch that is making me, and the others, wary of accepting. We discover that each one of us has, while staying in this house party, incurred the anger of our host and received a humiliating dressing-down for a very minor misdemeanour.

Q. A couple who live directly opposite us in London have sent a save-the-date notice for a big party they are giving in a few months time. We like these neighbours, despite the fact that they are absurdly grand and snobbish, but we find their big parties exhausting and neither of us wants to go. How can we possibly get out of it, Mary? We can’t claim to have a prior appointment because we didn’t answer immediately. There is also an important sporting fixture on telly on the same evening that we both want to watch, and our neighbours, who can see directly into our house, will be in no doubt that we are in. — Name and address withheld A. Accept the invitation. About two days before, scan the death column of the Times.

Q. Recently, during a stay in a luxurious mountain hotel in Italy, and having hurt my knee skiing, I was reading The Spectator in the library. I was alone in peace, thinking how wonderful the world is, when a man came in with his mobile, stretched out on a nearby sofa, and proceeded to engage in a long, loud phone call in German. I left the library after 20 minutes of mounting rage, for the peace of my bedroom. What should I have done? — S.F., a quiet-mannered Englishwoman abroad A. There are two ways you might have countered this breach of civility. One, by using your own mobile to record a snatch of the diatribe, then playing it back within his earshot. This would have unnerved and swiftly silenced the offender.

Q. How does one avoid power handshakes? Twenty-five years of wicket-keeping have left me with pathetically fragile knuckles, and each greeting (especially from bold young men keen to show just how ‘firm’ their grip is) brings the risk of crunching fingers and cracking bones. The pain can rule out my other hobby — playing keyboards in a band — for a couple of weeks. But it would seem terribly rude to refuse to shake someone’s hand. What do you suggest? — C.F., Hinton Ampner, Hants A. You should sidestep the usual full-hand shake which juxtaposes both ‘handpits’ between thumb and index fingers. Instead deftly grab only the fingertips of the power shaker.

Q. Recently I held a party at which some people were meeting each other for the first time. One social-climbing couple, who I do not know well and invited only to pay them back for their own recent party, subsequently emailed to ask for the contact details of the most influential and elevated of my acquaintance. I resisted replying, but then they emailed again suggesting that they hold a dinner and invite my social lions, along with my husband and myself. I am feeling somewhat under siege, as well as mildly outraged. But I know that if some friends I knew better (and liked more) had asked for the same details, I would have handed them over without a murmur. What should I do? — Besieged, Derbyshire A.

Q. For some time I have been spoiled by paying a small rent for a central flat belonging to absentee friends of my parents. Unfortunately it is a two-bedroom flat and the owners have just moved another lodger in. She is nice but ill-informed and, frankly, thick. Even ordinary non-challenging conversations about domestic issues are frustrating because she’s so slow on the uptake. I realise as I write this that I sound like an entitled brat but I work in finance and am shattered when I get back; I don’t have the mental energy to talk to someone who wants me to explain everything twice. I feel I should have had a say in who was moved in.

Q. Obviously one is delighted to have visits from close friends and family when one’s spouse is ailing, but how does one politely deter those in what might be called the second division who, mindful of the Bible’s teaching, are intent on visiting the sick, when the sick and his wife would rather be left alone and only wish for supportive emails promising thoughts and prayers? Visitors require feeding and watering, which entails shopping trips and general labour in the form of tidying the house and getting in flowers etc. They need meeting off trains and taking to the station and the whole enterprise causes great stress when one is reeling from shock and exhaustion. — Name and address withheld A.

Q. We want to invite a rather exceptional friend to dinner. He lives nearby but he has a top job and also travels a lot so we hardly ever see him. More to the point, his wife controls his social diary. Our problem is that the wife has become a tiny bit chippy about her husband’s star status. Since he is a charismatic, life-enhancing, poetry-reciting, anecdotalising, perceptive, well-informed,witty man, he takes centre stage at any gathering. He may sound insufferable but I can assure you his fellow guests are always happy to just sit back and listen. Not unreasonably, his wife would like to occasionally take centre-stage herself. Consequently she has replied with enthusiasm to our last two invitations by saying that although her husband will be away, she would love to come herself.

Q. I am at the age where parts of the body start to go wrong, and I have a minor but life-changing issue. I am in the process of telling my friends when I learn that one of them has a much more serious and life-threatening one. Should I mention my own lesser problem to him, and if so, how? I don’t want to belittle his by seeming to compare notes, but I suspect he would wish to know. — J.N., New Malden, Surrey A. Commiserate with your friend about his own condition. Listen to the details. Then give a short laugh and ask, ‘By the way, do you find it irritating or amusing when other people say they are ill too, and then describe some comparatively minor condition?’ Tailor your next words accordingly. Q.

Q. Several friends have reached an age and wealth that means they take unreasonably long holidays or even entire gap years. I enjoy being in regular touch with them when they are at home and am sad they will be away for so long. But should one stay in touch? And how, without the intrusive help of Skype and webcams? Some of my acquaintances post Instagram pictures (one or two too often). Is mutual Instagram following a satisfactory way ahead? — B.F., Barnham, West Sussex A. You should resist the urge to maintain your usual levels of dialogue. People go away for many reasons and sun-seeking is only one of them; they may also seek mental liberty. To achieve a quasi-meditative state and a perspective on their normal personas, they need to put emotional ties from home on hold.

Q. Should the lady or the gentleman have the banquette in a restaurant? I’ve been brought up to believe that the lady has the banquette for her more delicate bottom — and for her handbag. She has the view of the room; the gentleman has only eyes for her. My fiancé says that a modern couple should take it in turns to have the hard chair. Whose bottom takes precedence? — L.F., Bayswater, London A. As with so many cultural traditions, the lady takes the banquette for practical reasons. Not only does it allow access to her handbag and protect her more delicate clothing from spillages, but the lady usually has more data in her gossip repertoire than does the man.

Q. At my son’s school the boys keep a clandestine leatherbound book known as ‘The Bible’, a sort of Rogues Gallery which, inter alia, keeps a detailed account of various misdemeanours and advice on how to circumvent school regulations. It is handed down from year to year, and one of my son’s friends was caught with it by his housemaster. The school believes that this kind of insubordination runs against the ethos of the school and have asked for the boy’s father to destroy the book. I think it is a well-written, amusing account of school life that bucks the trend of political correctness and encourages creativity. It is also a critical historic document, but the father feels he is under some obligation to destroy it, having undertaken to do so.

From Sir Vince Cable MP Q. I have an unfulfilled ambition to win a national title for ballroom dancing in my age group. But this leadership thing gets in the way of my training. What’s more important — Parliament’s squabbling schoolroom or Blackpool’s twinkle-toes ballroom? A. What’s all this either/or business? These days the only way to become a leader is to become a celebrity first. Viz Trump. If they like you as leader it won’t be because you’ve got the ‘leadership thing’ — it will have been the twinkle toes that swung it. From Jacob Rees-Mogg MP Q. My two eldest sons are becoming quite good at playing the trumpet but when they practise this wakes the baby. Nanny does not approve.

Q. We have reached the age when we are receiving invitations from our friends for Golden Wedding celebrations. All the invitations clearly state no presents please. It feels dreadful to arrive without a gift, especially as others have obviously ignored the hosts’ request and arrived with presents. What to do? — M & D., Somerset A. It is annoying for such hosts who quite emphatically ask for no presents. They are not being coy but, at their age, actually feel panic at the thought of new clutter coming into the house.

Q. I was recently at an informal dinner given by two dear friends, but returned home seething with rage against one of their two guests. The odd thing was that for at least half of the dinner I had liked her; she had seemed soothing and articulate and had a pretty face. Her true colours emerged only when our warm-hearted hostess suddenly remembered that both of our mothers (like thousands of others) had worked at Bletchley Park during the war. She kindly tried to find the book I wrote about my mother but I reminded her that she had lent it to a friend. I had not said a word about my mother but the guest then started boasting that her mother had been in the most important hut with Alan Turing et al.

Q. We have a family friend we don’t see nearly as much as we’d like. This is because he’s so near perfect — clever, funny, civilised, and also single with an interesting job — that he’s in great demand as a guest. When we do bag him before somebody else does we adore his company and he clearly enjoys ours. My gripe is that I’ve realised he’s been coming to stay with us for 30 years, either in houses we’ve rented abroad, in Scotland or just as a weekend guest at home, yet has never invited us to lunch, the cinema or even for a walk. This is nothing to do with a return of hospitality; he’s not in a position to ask us back and he’s generous with presents.