Letters

Q. Following a lavish house party I received a flood of effusive thank-you letters, the bulk of which praised the impeccable service, the luxurious treats laid on nightly, and my attentiveness to my guests’ every whim. One letter, however, commenced in a fairly complimentary vein but soon devolved into a letter of complaint about a fellow guest. So vehemently did the author express his antipathy that he covered two sides of paper. I concede that the young woman in question is an acquired taste, but I resent my friends being subject to character assassinations. How can I reprehend the scribe? — Name withheld, London W2 A. Bear in mind that this letter is something of a compliment. The author defies convention to put your welfare above his own.

Q. Next month, four of us from university are going up on a wildfowling trip north of Inverness. We are catching the night sleeper from Euston and I have been charged with booking the berths. Two of the team are in a heterosexual relationship whilst the fourth, a man I have met just once, is homosexual. Inevitably I will be expected to bunk up with him in a cabin. The problem is that I am considerably better off than the others and would much rather have my own space but I fear a personal move to first class may prompt suspicions of homophobia (which couldn’t be more wrong). How can I get around this one? — S.H., London SW10 A. Since, in your age group, homophobes are as rare as hen’s teeth, there is virtually no risk of anyone thinking you are homophobic.

Q. A friend of mine’s husband is in his nineties. They are a delightful couple but the husband has started refusing to wear his hearing aids. As a consequence his loving wife has to shout at him to get him to do what she wants — which is only ever something that is to his own advantage, for example go for a short walk in the garden, or go to the television room where there is something on in which he will be interested. In order to achieve a result she has to bawl her lungs out. This is exhausting for her. How can one persuade a recalcitrant old boy to do the decent thing and wear his hearing aids? — M.K., London W11 A. Your friend can spare herself the indignity of shouting like a fishwife by making recordings of regular instructions.

Q. Twice recently our host has clinked his glass, required us to stop relaxing and instead take part in a round-table discussion. My wife and are involved in the maelstrom of the Westminster village by day and we have had enough of it by the evening. Is there a courteous way to reject the request of a host attempting to hijack his own dinner party in this way? — Name and address withheld A. Clink your own glass and say your doctor has ordered that in the short term you don’t blur the boundaries between work and play and, since you would find it impossible not to join in, would they mind pausing the discussion until you have gone home. Q. My godson recently turned 18 and I invited him to dine with me at my London club to receive his birthday present.

Q. I recently rediscovered a wonderful 22-year-old godson. He came to shoot for the first time and was a marvellous guest — impressing others to the extent of even receiving a potential job offer. He has wonderful manners but although he thanked us profusely while under our roof, he has not as yet written his thanks. Shooting thank-you letters are still much appreciated by hosts. It does not matter a jot to us that he has not written, as he is now ‘family’. However, as godmother, I worry that his maybe not knowing that a handwritten thank-you letter for a shooting invitation is de rigueur could jeopardise his success elsewhere. How can I tactfully convey this? — O.A., Suffolk A. Email the boy promptly. Say ‘I must have given you the wrong postcode.

Q. Might I suggest an alternative solution to E.B. of London’s problem (3 October) about the person sporting a ‘maddening’ blackhead at a poolside party? Surely a more tactful way of drawing the man’s attention to the blackhead would have been for E.B. to pretend she thought it was an insect that had landed. On failing to shoo it away, she could have exclaimed that it might be a tick and he should remove it and then offered to assist in this operation. The nuisance could thus have been dealt with without the poor man even discovering that he had an embarrassing zit. — J.P., Stratford upon Avon A. Thank you. The first part of your solution is good but the second part is unusable, since a tick bite can be such a real menace.

In a wonderfully dry manual of theology on my husband’s bookshelves, written in Latin and printed in Naples in the 1830s, there is a discussion of whether ‘rustics and idiots’ are supported in their belief by ‘motives of credibility’, such as miracles. The same question has been asked about belief in Jeremy Corbyn, except that the city stands in for the country, and the idiots are often useful ones. ‘I am the only candidate who can offer a bold but credible vision,’ Andy Burnham has said. ‘I’ll have the confidence to reject Tory myths and the credibility to demolish them,’ countered Yvette Cooper. John Curtice, the political scientist, noticed that Labour MPs think Mr Corbyn’s ‘economic policy is not credible’.

Q. The woman who lives above me has insomnia and walks around all night. I’m also disturbed by her rather noisy cat, which seems to be constantly jumping around. Together they are keeping me awake and my work is suffering. But we are in a small house converted into two flats and I don’t wish to make an enemy of my only neighbour. How can I tactfully ask her at least to stop walking around so much in the night without infringing her freedom to roam? — M.R.-H., London W12 A. You can’t ask her without infringing it. Instead, write in the most friendly way to apologise in advance for the terrific amount of noise which will shortly take place by builders coming in to soundproof your ceilings.

Q. I have been trying to get an apprenticeship in fashion for over a year without success. I just had a day-long interview where I had to sew and cut and was employed on the spot. My problem is that a few hours later, I got the call to come in to be interviewed by a designer who has been my fashion idol since I was 15. He would be much cooler to work for. He may not offer me a job but it seems like a chance of a lifetime. How should I play this, Mary? —Name and address withheld A. Honour is all. ‘Employed on the spot’ means that you accepted. Start the apprenticeship but still turn up for the interview with your idol, explaining as you walk in that, although you are sadly no longer available, you wanted to tell him this in person as you are such an admirer.