Mary Killen

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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’?