Mary Killen

Mary Killen

Dear Mary | 3 January 2019

Q. Whenever I go to the theatre or cinema with any man of 60-plus, he falls asleep, even when the play or film is of a high standard. Should I wake him up? With a West End play particularly, it seems an awful waste of a ticket. (I am referring only to silent snoozing. If snoring occurs, I will of course give him a sharp dig with my elbow.) — E.S., London W11 A. Smelling salts — as used in Victorian Britain to revive fainting women — are unfashionable but still perfectly legal. Mackenzies is a traditional brand and is available online. The tiny bottle contains a pungent mixture of eucalyptus and ammonia.

Richard Madeley: should I ban my guests talking about Brexit at Christmas?

Q. Christmas could be tricky in our home this year: roughly half our dinner guests are Remainers, the rest Brexiteers. Before I carve the turkey, should I announce that any discussion about the EU is strictly off-limits, or would it be wiser to divert differences of opinion into a harmless party game afterwards (charades would seem appropriate)? A. Traditional Christmas resentments will be heightened if Brexit differences are used to wage proxy wars — so yes, do decree the toxic topic off-limits. Distract with proxy referendums. Take votes on whether you attend Midnight Mass, bother with Brussels sprouts etc. With luck you will have landslide Yes votes for roaring log fires and roast potatoes, which will help with bonding.

Dear Mary | 13 December 2018

From Michael Fabricant MP Q. When I go for intimate meals at a restaurant with a friend, I am invariably asked by other diners for a selfie or have embarrassing questions about my hairstyle directed at me. How can I turn these down — particularly the latter — while not seeming churlish? A. Confuse the applicants by saying you’ve promised yourself you’ll stop talking about your hair. And you’re asking everyone who wants a selfie for a £10 donation to the party. As the coffers fill, you can conflate the stress of these impertinences with a good cause. Soon your frown will turn upside down. From Anthony Horowitz Q. All year round, and particularly at Christmas, I am asked to provide quotations to go on the covers of other people’s books.

Dear Mary | 6 December 2018

Q. A friend and I are giving a combined Christmas drinks party for 120 people. It’s being held at her house so I don’t feel I have the same leverage as if we were hiring somewhere. Unfortunately she has a very glamorous son and insists that he and some fellow students will make fantastic waiters (at £10 per hour each). These ‘waiters’ will know many of the guests socially and will keep stopping to chat as though they were of equal status rather than servants for the night. Food and drink will not be circulated properly and the front door will be left unattended. I don’t want to fall out with my co-host but the party will clearly be a disaster. — M.F., London W11 A.

Dear Mary | 29 November 2018

Q. May I pass on a tip to anyone facing large family house parties at Christmas? I always used to find Christmas exhausting as we are joined by approximately 14 children and grandchildren every year for lunch and dinner over five days. Last year, however, my son devised a rota system. He drew up the rota and paired up individuals so that each pair took on the full responsibility for a lunch or dinner, including menu planning, shopping, cooking and washing up. It was great fun and the element of competition meant that the standards were ridiculously high as well. — L.G., Fosbury, Wiltshire A. Thank you for sharing this genuinely useful tip.  Q.

Dear Mary | 22 November 2018

Q. I am organising my 30th birthday party weekend at a large country house kindly lent to me by friends of my parents. The house sleeps 25. I’m drawing up a plan for bedroom distribution, and find myself in a predicament because there is a large disparity regarding the luxuriousness of the bedrooms. Some have stunning sea views with four-posters, claw-footed bathtubs and chandeliers, while others are converted servants’ rooms, have sloping attic ceilings, single beds, shared bathrooms and views of the car park. How do I allocate the bedrooms without causing offence to the ‘losers’? The truth is that the grander ones would suffer much more from the discomfort of the bad rooms than the ones unused to luxury. — B. R., Fulham, London A.

Dear Mary’s money matters

Dear Mary answers some of your financial dilemmas: Q. A friend’s niece who got her first job last year and still lives with her parents is coming from Belgium to stay with him in his London flat. She has asked him to book a table for three (herself, my friend and his partner) at one of the most expensive restaurants in the capital. How can he make sure that she intends to treat them, as there is no way that they can afford a massive restaurant bill at the moment? R.T., Shropshire A. He should act daft and email or ring to say, ‘It’s a very generous thought but are you sure? We would be just as happy going somewhere less expensive and we are equally happy to cook dinner for you in the flat.’ Q.

Dear Mary | 15 November 2018

Q. A difficult couple of our acquaintance always object to other guests at dinner and can be very rude to them. In consequence, we have fallen into a pattern of dining at each other’s houses in London, just the four of us. They are sticklers for what they see as correct behaviour. Last week, however, we were told, the day before we were due to host, that they had a friend staying the night; could they bring him along? This was someone I vaguely knew, but had not seen for 20 years, and someone my wife has never met. Neither of us desired his company. I suggested perhaps we choose another date, but feathers were ruffled. Mary, what would you suggest? — Name and address withheld A.

Dear Mary | 8 November 2018

Q. At every drinks party one will be in mid-conversation with another guest and someone will walk over and loiter briefly. If I know the new arrival I will introduce them, and if not I will introduce both of us, and describe what we are discussing so the new person can join in. But I am bored by people who arrive and merely say to me or the other guest something like, ‘Oh I saw Milo in Scotland last week’, ending the original discussion and cutting out one of the original guests. — G.F., Gasper, Wiltshire A. Most people make this mistake out of nerves and are perfectly happy with a gentle prod to mind their manners so the conversation can continue to flow. There is no need for anyone to take offence.

Your problems solved | 1 November 2018

Q. Previously a long-term and content single man, earlier in the year I began a relationship with a wonderful girl, despite warnings from friends that she had a reputation for suddenly and crushingly breaking the hearts of a string of boyfriends. I reassured myself and my friends that this was different and special. Months later, and happily committed to what I thought was a long future with her, with no signs to the contrary, inevitably I have been tossed aside via WhatsApp messages and a phone call. How can I avoid the pitying looks from those who warned me? — Name withheld, London SW3 A.

Dear Mary | 25 October 2018

Q. My wife and I have been married for 50 years. The marriage is basically sound but she has recently developed a new maddening habit when we entertain. She waits until I am in the middle of an anecdote or story and then starts proffering plates of vegetables or more wine — this when everyone has already got well-filled glasses and everything on their plate they could possibly want. And of course they then have to say ‘No thank you’. These actions seem timed to sabotage my performances. When I take it up with her she always insists she is just being polite to our guests. — Name and address withheld A. This is a prime example of passive aggression. Your wife may be nursing a secret grudge against you.

Dear Mary | 18 October 2018

Q. My fiancé and I spend many great weekends with another couple. I am a vegetarian and quite particular about certain food textures and I cannot stand slimy foods like overcooked mushrooms or undercooked eggs. The husband of our good friends prides himself on the brunches he rustles up on the Sunday of these weekends, presenting the others with full English breakfasts and me with scrambled eggs on toast. I don’t quite know what he does to these eggs but they appear in front of me in a semi-liquid form, soaking into the toasted bread. I really need to figure out a way to stop this without offending our hosts. We’ve got to the point where I am presented with a mountain of this gloopy mess without being asked. I cannot request just toast the night before.

Dear Mary | 11 October 2018

Q. An old friend shares aesthetic sensibilities and tastes in people. Hence we have sustained a highly enjoyable correspondence over some decades. However, having recently had significant professional success, he is no longer fulfilling his side of the bargain. Even 1,000 words from me will now elicit only a perfunctory response. Yet whenever we meet in London he apologises that he is too busy to respond at length and begs me to continue with my own musings, on which he insists he ‘depends’. Mary, how, without seeming querulous, victimy or even ‘queeny’, can I make him see this has become an unfair exchange? — Name and address withheld A.

Dear Mary | 4 October 2018

Q. I recently gave a jolly dinner for eight friends (some old, some rather famous), all home cooking, ending with petits-fours. The next morning, everything cleared away, husband out for the day, I relaxed by the open French windows, reading (still wearing my long Victorian nightgown). I was startled to see two of the guests smiling in, come to lend a book we’d talked about the night before. The husband, mildly embarrassed, looked out at the garden intently; the wife kept turning the pages of the book they’d brought. Neither showed signs of leaving. I determined to stay sitting comfortably, explained that I had decided to slum it as I was alone, and didn’t offer them coffee, as I felt it would prolong the awkwardness. What should I have done, Mary?

Your problems solved | 27 September 2018

Q. My husband and I have been invited to the birthday party of a distinguished public figure with whom we have had a discreet, or, at least unboasted of, relationship over many years. The invitation is displayed on the dresser in our kitchen. Recently a woman visitor to our house saw the invitation and cried: ‘Wow! How did you two get invited to that?’ Mary, I felt her astonishment was not only maladroit but also passive aggressive. How should I have replied to her veiled insult? — Name and address withheld A. You might have responded: ‘Oh dear. I’m sorry. Have you not been invited? The only reason we’ve been is they’re trying to include lots of unglamorous worthies as an anti-elitist thing.

Dear Mary | 20 September 2018

Q. A neighbour, a wonderful old friend in his late eighties, is a marvellous raconteur. As a family we have enjoyed his company for years. Our problem is that our children have entered their mid-teens and become pompous and intolerant. When we entertain at lunchtime they and their friends ruin the atmosphere by trying to gag our friend, complaining that his remarks are racist, homophobic, snobbish — the works. They particularly object to his imitation of foreign accents, one of his party turns. We love our children but this is causing tension at the table. What do you suggest? — E.D.G., Calne A. Explain to your children that it is in their own interest to humour your friend by laughing along with his jokes. It doesn’t mean they approve of them.

Dear Mary | 13 September 2018

Q. Following a small dinner last night in a private house, I got home to find £300 missing from my handbag, which I’d left in the kitchen while we ate in a dining room. There were only eight guests, all of whom I’ve known for decades, and a loyal housekeeper who has worked for my friend for 20 years. My friend is a great offence-taker so I don’t feel I can tell her because she might impulsively sack the downtrodden housekeeper. On the other hand, if it was the housekeeper, she could one day clean out all my friend’s bank accounts so I do have a duty to mention it. But it could also just as easily have been one of the other guests who may have gone mad, or become a kleptomaniac. What should I do? — C.H., London SW3 A.

Dear Mary | 30 August 2018

Q. I invited four younger colleagues, all in their mid to late thirties, to go for a meal at a rather special venue. I first invited A and B, who were sitting together at the time, then C and D, who were also sitting together. On the day, A and C arrived, expressing great enthusiasm and having dressed in their best; B and D simply did not turn up. When I mentioned it later, they breezily replied that they had had other plans. What I don’t understand is that when I gave the invitations out two people accepted and acted accordingly, while two agreed with near-identical wording, but failed to attend (meaning their replies were totally insincere). How do I know in future when someone’s ‘Yes I’d love to come’ means ‘I have no interest at all’?

Dear Mary | 23 August 2018

Q. I live in a houseshare with two other people; one of whom I am very fond of and the other, not so much. She lies and cheats and is a terrible friend. She is a social climber extraordinaire who has abandoned her real friends. My other housemate is of the same opinion. The lease is coming up for renewal. We don’t want to move, so how do we get her out? She will not take this lying down. — Name and address withheld A. A calm three-step procedure will be necessary. Enlist the help of a monied friend, who has connections to both you and the good housemate. He should pay a visit to the house and declare, in front of the narcissist, that it’s his ideal property.

Dear Mary | 16 August 2018

Q. My husband and I were among the first to arrive at a recent large house party in Scotland. We were shown to our bedroom at the far end of a corridor and told that the occupants of the other rooms were not expected till the next day. We were tired after a day’s travelling and hence when my husband annoyed me I’m afraid that, confident no one would overhear, I let loose with a full tirade rather in the manner of a fishwife. Later I was horrified to find another guest had in fact arrived and been billeted in the adjoining bedroom. Our stay was then overshadowed by paranoia. Had he heard? How could we find out? If he had, then what? — Name and address withheld A.