Manners

Dear Mary: How can I stop unexpected visitors using my loo?

Q. I treat myself to a manicure every ten days. It’s a 30-minute appointment and the girl I use is always fully booked. I turned up — punctual as always — for my appointment this week to be told that the client before me had been stuck in traffic and so my manicurist was ‘running late’. It turned out to be a wait of 12 minutes and she ended up giving me rather a rushed job. I looked at my watch when I left, and saw that she had made up her lost time at my expense and I felt short-changed. This isn’t the first time it has happened. Mary, how can I politely make clear that I want the full therapeutic value of the treatment I am paying for: i.e. the relaxing hand massage well as the nail-painting? — Name and address withheld A.

Dear Mary: How can I get my cleaner to stop complaining?

Q. My cleaner is industrious and trustworthy but she doesn’t have many people to talk to and evidently looks forward to her shifts as social occasions. She loves having a captive audience (my brother and I are currently WFH) and her conversation consists mainly of complaints, so it’s never a fun chat. It’s generally a bit of a downer and lending a sympathetic ear is becoming rather exhausting. I always end up going for a walk during her shift, even though it doesn’t suit me. It has taken me so long to find a half-decent cleaner that I don’t want to let her go. Mary, what should I do? — R.W., London SW7 A. Turn your cleaner’s presence to your advantage.

Why we should study literature, not science

Gstaad Who was it who said good manners had gone the way of black and white TV? Actually it was yours truly after watching the slobs parading up and down Gstaad’s main street. That was last year, but the bad news is that this year slobovia has come to stay again. Mind you, Alexandra and I had planned to have 50 friends for a party to celebrate 50 years of my enslavement, but Mister Omicron arrived and put a damper on our plans. The tent on the lawn and the oompah band were cancelled, and the New Year’s Eve blast turned into a smallish affair. The good news is that there are still a few people who don’t adhere to the online culture of today, that of anger, incivility and non-stop use of the F-word.

Dear Mary: How do I stop my daughter-in-law’s daily calls?

Q. I live alone, happily and remotely, but many miles from my immediate family. My son’s wife has very kindly taken it on herself to telephone every day to check on my wellbeing. Apparently she feels that, by so doing, she is giving me the chance to have ‘a chat’. I am grateful, of course, but my problem is that she talks for at least ten minutes each time and, unfortunately, what she has to say is not exactly scintillating. I am concerned that if this goes on, she will start to worry that I find her boring, so can you think of a tactful way in which I can discourage her from the lengthy conversation part of these calls? — Name and address withheld A. You shouldn’t discourage the chats. Even the dullness of them is informative.

Dear Mary, from Matt Hancock: after an eventful year, how should I get in touch with old friends?

From Lady Antonia Fraser Q. I enjoy getting readers’ letters, but there is one category I am at a loss how to deal with. These are from readers who inform me that in another life, another incarnation, they were one of my historical characters, their present lives being generally very different. Most striking was the vicar’s wife who wrote to me after reading my King Charles II: ‘I am now the hard-working wife of a clergyman but in another life I was that naughty minx Nell Gwyn.’ Occasionally there has been aggression: ‘How dare you write about my wife, Mary Queen of Scots?’ signed ‘formerly Lord Darnley’. A great many people seem to have once been Marie Antoinette. Should I answer them as they were — or as they are?

Dear Mary: How do I politely avoid going to a memorial service?

Q. I will shortly be attending a major social gathering in London at which I can look forward to seeing some dear old friends and speaking to them in person for the first time in many months. Therein lies the problem. I will probably not be able to speak to these key people. I can anticipate that, just when I am properly engaging with someone who is normally too busy to talk on the telephone, and with whom I have a lot of ground to cover, a ‘person from Porlock’ will hove into view and bring our intimate chat to a halt. Mary, my question is: how, without being rude, do you get the message across that you would like to exchange small talk with such an acquaintance later — but please don’t disturb us just now? — S.T., Chirton, Wilts A.

Dear Mary: How do I get my masseuse to stop talking?

Q. Our two daughters often bring friends down for the weekend. These friends are more than welcome; we enjoy their company and most have perfect manners — except they never leave a tip. Our daughters claim that no one of their age group (early twenties) carries cash and that even if they remind their guests to bring some to leave in their room, they are so unused to using cash points that most of them still forget. How should I insist without striking a bullying or inhospitable note? — N.H., Bridport, Dorset A. Make it easier for the guests by casually mentioning that you have been out to a cashpoint and stocked up, so anyone who wants to borrow cash for a tip can come to you.

Dear Mary: How do I stop a dinner guest double-dipping?

Q. During lockdown I made good friends with a neighbour who I would never have met otherwise. This man lives so close that he now regularly comes to informal dinners at our house. Unfortunately he has a habit of ‘double dipping’ his used fork into jars of redcurrant jelly, mustard, whatever — even though I always supply saucers and teaspoons. It means I have to throw away half-full jars when he has left. How can I stop this without drawing attention to his table manners and making him feel too shy to come again? I want to introduce this adorable man to other friends but feel I can’t while he has this disgusting habit. — Name withheld, Bath A.

Dear Mary: How do I get rid of my terrible cleaner?

Q. I have recently become a widow. Since my son is away at university, I had the idea of charging a modest rate to informally rent out his bedroom to friends and friends of friends who happen to need a bed in the city for a night. I include dinner and breakfast in the rate but can still make a much-needed profit. My problem is that some charming friends of friends have booked in twice and want to make it a regular thing, but they insist on taking me out for a slap-up dinner at a smart restaurant in lieu of the small payment. I don’t think they are remotely aware of my delicate financial situation. Any ideas about how I can tactfully put the record straight, Mary? I very much enjoy their company but that’s beside the point. I need the cash. — H.W., Edinburgh A.

Dear Mary: How do we get our friends to pay for the carpet they ruined?

Q. We have had some rather rich Argentines to stay. No one was able to come in to help before or during their visit so I was exhausted looking after them, making their beds, cooking, quietly washing up etc. Consequently, when I went into their room and found they had left a £250 tip for my cleaner (who had done nothing), I decided I would keep the lion’s share. I left £20 for the cleaner, which she was absolutely thrilled with. Now my husband, to whom I had not confessed, tells me she asked him for the Argentines’ address so she could write to thank them for the £20. There is now a letter on its way over and I need urgent help to avoid huge embarrassment. — Name and address withheld A.

Dear Mary: How do I stop my husband repeating himself?

Q. A very old friend has rented a holiday house and invited my husband and me to stay. The property happens to belong to another friend so we have stayed there in the past and know it’s fairly stupendous with cook, garden, pool, sea and mountains etc. It now goes for a massive rent which, fortunately, our other friend, who has done very well in business, can more than afford to pay. She knows my husband and I no longer have the money we used to and she definitely does not want us to contribute. Our problem is that among the other guests will be a couple who, while not as rich as our host, are a bit on the flashy side.

Dear Mary: What is the etiquette of greeting a friend who is engaged in a ceremonial display?

Q. Passing Buckingham Palace in a taxi the other day, I saw the ceremonial wing of the Household Division prancing impressively along on horseback. The taxi halted to allow them to pass. As I knew one of the young men socially, I wondered what is the etiquette of greeting a friend who is engaged in a ceremonial display? I can see it would have been disruptive to the integrity of the group if one member had to nod or wave back to somebody, but surely it would have been rude of me not to acknowledge him — even if only to do a ‘thumbs up’? As it happened, I did not catch my friend’s eye, but Mary, what should I do if such a situation arises again? — M.W., Pewsey, Wilts A.

Dear Mary: How can I stop friends asking to stay in my holiday cottage?

Q. My beloved wife has been studying Chinese metaphysics for 18 months. Our house and garden have been badly neglected as a result — as have her husband, and nine-year-old daughter! She claims she needs the mental stimulation, but how can we detach her from her obsession? —F.O., Dorset A. You could outwit your wife by developing your own obsession: namely how she can monetise her new interest by giving lessons to acquaintances and neighbours with intellectual pretensions and time on their hands. There are always plenty of empty heads ready to be filled and the study of Chinese metaphysics could easily fit the bill — ‘bill’ being the operative word, since the snob appeal could allow her to charge fancy prices.

Dear Mary: How do I get my neighbours to tidy their front gardens?

Q. I live in a row of town houses with a communal strip of garden in front. Three of the eight houses leave their gardens in a mess. These are not poor people — a dentist, a lawyer and a dermatologist — but they seem to lack any sense of community duty. If they had any notion of the eyesore the front of their houses presents, they could hire a garden service. It is galling that I have to clean up their gardens myself or leave the mess. How should I get them to clean up their act? — D.W., Toronto A. The problem may be linked to lethargy rather than micro-aggression. It is likely that the offenders keep meaning to get someone in to tackle the mess but simply don’t know how to go about it.

Dear Mary: When is it acceptable to make a French exit?

Q. The other night, while hosting a house party, I was one of only three people still chatting by the fire after midnight. I reasoned that if I said goodnight, the one remaining guest, who was still very much enjoying talking to my wife, would feel this was a cue for her to go to bed too. Consequently I made a French exit. The next morning, my wife told me that my having slipped off without saying anything meant that the two of them had been waiting in uncertainty for me to come back, and had stayed up for around half an hour more than they would have done if I had made my own intentions clear. My wife claims you should never make a French exit leaving only two in a room. Can you clarify the protocol, Mary? — M.B., Stanton St Bernard, Wilts A. Your wife is correct.

Dear Mary: Has lockdown de-civilised my husband?

Q. Last night I went to dinner with people I had never met before. Because the host was a friend of my mother, I had to move next to her on a small sofa to send a photo home. We were then left in an awkward situation where we were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder for the rest of the evening. How could I have migrated away without seeming rude, Mary? — R.H., London SW1 A. You might have escaped by asking your host to join you in looking more closely at, for example, a painting which intrigued you and gradually enlisted the views of others while you marvelled. Soon you would have been free to casually drift apart. Next time a conversational cul-de-sac beckons, leave your drink where you were.

Dear Mary: How can we avoid getting stuck with a useless cleaner?

Q. We have moved house from north to south London. For me one of the chief pluses is that we no longer need to employ the same cleaner who has blighted my life for years by being useless. My wife, who is a soft touch, could never bring herself to sack the woman for fear of ‘hurting her feelings’. How can we avoid repeating the mistake (with going rates as much as £15 an hour)? We don’t know any of our new neighbours to ask for recommendations. — B.B., London SW17 A. Advertise in a newsagent’s window. It is important to mention the hourly rate you are prepared to pay as potential cleaners will not make contact otherwise.

Dear Mary: How do we tell our friend that her hairstyle doesn’t suit her?

Q. At a lunch party, I was getting on so well with someone I had not met before. She knew my work (I’m a designer) and loves it — so much so that she suggested I contact friends of hers who own a design company and are looking to fill a post. I told her that, coincidentally, I had just been for an interview at that very company but, despite shared aesthetic sensibilities, had not (inexplicably to my mind) been offered the job. At this point my interlocutor cried: ‘Oh, how ridiculous. You would have been perfect. I had forgotten what terrible snobs they are.’ Mary, I am still asking myself what it is about me that my new acquaintance so clearly saw could ‘trigger’ snobbery.

In our narcissistic age, nothing beats good manners

Last week, a 20-year-old student came into my office, looking for work experience this summer. He was so polite — in a shy, understated, non-oily way — that I was very keen to help him. It was like meeting a time-traveller from the 1950s: no showing-off, just a gentle display of intelligence teased out from behind his veil of self-effacement. He even washed up his cup after I’d told him he didn’t need to. I must introduce a Teacup Test for future interviewees, to see what they do with the cup at the end of the interview. It’s inspired by the Escalator Test, invented by a colleague at the Evening Standard a few years ago. He would watch interviewees leave our office by the down escalator in Northcliffe House, Kensington.

Dear Mary: should we exclude our friend for not having had his Covid vaccine?

Q. Once restrictions are lifted, our annual walking group has planned a week’s walk with after-walk gatherings in a different pub every evening. The group is composed of people all of an age to have been doubly vaccinated. We always invite friends along the route to walk a day or two and join us for dinner. One couple invited this year — long-standing friends of some of us and otherwise sensible and interesting people — consists of a husband who, it emerges, is a fierce anti-vaxxer and his embarrassed, vaccinated wife. There are people in the party who do not know this, or him, and might be unamused to discover it when snuggled up with him on the pub bench. What should we do? Say nothing, trusting to our antibodies? Put him on a separate table?