Mary Killen

Q. Last summer a friend of my brother-in-law’s house-sat for us while we were in Greece for a week. We paid him £25 a day and all he had to do was look after our dog and water the garden when necessary. I left food for him, including fruit, in our fridge. Mary, I say including fruit because, to my annoyance, when we got back we found he had stripped my raspberry canes of every single raspberry and eaten most of our figs. Because we couldn’t find anyone else he is returning this year and it might sound feeble but I just can’t tell him not to help himself. What can I do? — C.J., Chagford, Devon A. Buy a harmless food dye in navy blue and spray the produce before you go. Leave notices adjacent announcing: ‘Fungicide trial in place. Do not disturb fruit.

Q. Is there an etiquette regarding security gates? My wife and I were invited to dinner by new neighbours who have bought a house formerly owned by lifelong friends of ours. In the old days, any visitor would have just swung in off the road through the open stone gates and made their way up the drive to the house. On arrival this time, we were depressed to find black metal security gates barring our way. We waited for the sensor to open them but nothing happened. I then had to get out of the car and stand in the rain pressing buttons on an electronic panel. I waited a good minute for someone to speak and another one for the gates to open. Surely this sort of behaviour is not just pretentious, Mary, but also quite at odds with the spirit of hospitality?

Q. ‘Alfred’ is a friend of 30 years’ standing who has just married for the first time. Alfred retains all his charms but his wife is a horror show who carps and criticises our beloved friend in front of us. The only plus is that she is often away on business. Alfred has a country house to which he usually invites us over the summer. How can we tactfully arrange to be invited during one of his wife’s absences? — Name and address withheld A. Ring Alfred to synchronise diaries and find a time when they can come to stay with you. Keep saying the weekends he suggests are no good for you until you have compiled a list of dates when the wife is out of the country. Finally set a date for their visit.

Q. We have friends to stay each year in Scotland and it’s always a pleasure. Guests know there is signal only in my dressing room, and that they should clear their decks electronically before coming. Yet every year, due to poor planning, people need to commandeer our laptop. The problem is they leave business flotsam and jetsam behind, when I feel they should leave it as they found it. A bossy notice is not in keeping with holiday spirit, so how can one make this point? — N.M., Oxford A. If this happens every year, it’s time for you to stop fretting. Simply order a cut-price spare laptop to serve guests’ purposes, put a password on your own, and let them fight about the flotsam and jetsam among themselves. Q.

Q. I import a range of very high-quality food products from Europe into the UK. They are regarded as the best in the market and have a well-proven record in European stores, but the buyer at a well-known ‘upmarket’ supermarket is elusive. When I try to get in touch, he claims to be busy and, in the last instance, dismissively advised me to send some samples with a business card. If I do that, I will have lost the opportunity for a meeting in which I could grab his attention. — G.L., address withheld A. Counter his mental laziness with a four-pronged attack. Let’s call your products the Coup de Gout range and the upmarket supermarket Primary Palate.

Q. We have received a ‘save the week’ card from friends who take a villa abroad every year. We usually like their other guests but my husband has developed a near-phobia of one of their friends, a man who holds opposing political views from his own and is vocal about them. This man is in great demand socially, probably because he’s single and supposedly eligible, and we suspect he may be going too. My husband says that whatever the result of the election, he can’t face being trapped in a house party with this man for a week and won’t go if he is. I think my husband is behaving badly — obviously, when the firm invitation comes in, I can’t say: ‘We’ll only come if X isn’t.

Q. I am a member of a well-known country house opera society, and I organise annual trips to performances for a group of friends. We all look forward to these very much, as we don’t see each other as often as we would like. As the member, I have to stump up a large sum in advance for the tickets and then recoup the money from my pals. Unfortunately one of our party pays very late, often leaving it to the day before the performance to cough up his share. I don’t wish to embarrass him and we enjoy his company very much, but I do not wish to keep providing long-term free credit. Can you suggest a tactful solution? — Name and address withheld A. Next time, send a round robin urging everyone to let you have their cheques ASAP so you can get the best seats.

Q. My mother always told me that only boring people are bored. However she never got stuck at a drinks party discussing the pros and cons of HS2 or the impact of Crossrail on people’s commute. What is the best way of extricating oneself from a painfully dull conversation? Getting a drink is dangerous (they’ll want one too), the loo technique never fools anyone, and taking a phone call is rather vulgar. Are there any foolproof excuses I’ve missed? — C.U.S., London W2 A. How about sudden sharp intake of breath, then ‘Oh my goodness! Sorry, I must go and hide — my first boyfriend/girlfriend has just walked in. Will you excuse me?’ Cringe as you head for a more densely packed section of the party. Q.

Q. May I pass on a tip to readers wishing to reject a hopeful romantic partner without hurting their feelings? I recently made an overture towards a friend I have long admired. At first I was hurt when he confessed he didn’t return my feelings. However, he said the reason he didn’t see me in that way is because I remind him of his niece, to whom he alleges I bear a close physical resemblance. My self-esteem was spared the hit it would otherwise have taken and we have resumed our friendship. — F.W., Notting Hill, London A. Thank you for passing on this helpful tip. Q. I’ve been invited to Barbados. I’m fair-skinned and have been warned by my doctor not to get sunburnt. However I have mousy blond hair which looks so much better with highlights from the sun.

A friend of a friend hosted an engagement party in a London hotel. Invitations had gone out six weeks beforehand, and no expense was spared. They had planned it to be an ultra lavish event to please even the most critical and spoiled of their friends. However, between the hours of 4 p.m. and 7 p.m. on the day of the party, 30 of the 100 guests who had accepted suddenly cancelled. The bride and groom are in their fifties, so surely their friends should be old enough to know better? What can an ordinary, non-super-rich person like me expect the turnout to be for my own forthcoming engagement party? I’m planning to hold it next year. (I’m in my thirties.) — L.D., Wokingham, Berkshire A.

Q. As an artist I’m indebted to my sponsor. I also like him, but not his habit of ringing me up when he has friends in the room, asking me to describe, for example, a party I’ve recently been to and then putting me on loudspeaker. It’s a good thing that he considers me to be entertaining, but I draw the line at being required to act the stand-up comic to an invisible (even if appreciative) audience. My mother says ‘he who pays the piper calls the tune’. Can you rule Mary? — Name and address withheld A. You are not a human jukebox available to churn out anecdotes on demand. Your sponsor is, at best, insensitive to require this.

Q. Living in a large house in the country within striking distance of a motorway, we get a lot of people calling in on their way elsewhere. We love it. We are particularly glad to see one busy and successful friend who is often passing and also needs a bed. The problem is he is a commitment-phobe and leaves his plans until the very last minute. He lives alone and hasn’t any idea of how a large household is run and often won’t reveal whether he will make, say, Sunday lunch until 11 that morning — usually with a breezy ‘Don’t worry about me.’ Of course, he arrives at 12.30 and eats like a horse. Once here, he is a very easy guest and always touchingly grateful, but clean sheets and Sunday lunch need more than two hours’ notice.