Etiquette

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?

Imagine I were to begin this column by remarking that a woman preaching is like a dog walking on its hind legs. It is not done well, but you’re surprised to find it done at all. Dear me, that would never do, even in as cheeky a magazine as The Spectator. Then try instead: ‘Dr Johnson was no admirer of the female sex. “A woman’s preaching,” he said, “is like a dog’s walking on his hinder legs. It is not done well; but you are surprised to find it done at all.”’ I could get away with that. An antiquated opinion, safely attributed to an 18th-century writer, enclosed behind quotation marks and decorated with a few cobwebs, can still be sneaked past our 21st-century censors. But how about a more recent offensive remark?

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.