Mary Killen

Mary Killen

Dear Mary: How do I train my husband not to shout for me from far-flung rooms?

Q. My former cleaner has now retired and lives nearby. I visit her with clockwork regularity and always enjoy seeing her, but the problem is that although we may have just been chatting and laughing or sitting in companionable silence, as soon as I say I must go, she chooses that moment to open a sort of conversational Pandora’s Box, e.g. to communicate some bad or worrying news. Suddenly I can’t leave but must sit down again and talk for another half hour. How can I make her tell me these things at the beginning of my visits, when she always greets me saying she’s really well and everything’s fine? — C.C., Bristol A.

Dear Mary: Our holiday hosts swim naked

Q.  We have recently returned from Provence where we stayed the first night with distant relatives. We woke on a perfect morning to sounds of laughter in the pool, so we happily slipped on our swimsuits and went down.  Our host and hostess were in the water but minus swimsuits. My husband, who was clearly taken aback, briefly greeted them, dived in, did a couple of lengths and left. I followed suit, although my inclination was to shed my costume and join our hosts. I think that we were unnecessarily prudish and have told my husband so. He says we invaded their privacy. What should we have done, Mary? — J.R., Sittingbourne, Kent A. Your husband’s retention of costume and minimised immersion was not prudish but correct.

Dear Mary: Do men really have worse table manners when they’re on their own?

Q.  My 16-year-old son, who has recently had his first experiences of Clubland, has observed to me, his mother, that men’s table manners degenerate inside men-only clubs. Is this true? — A.D.M., London SW1 A.  Allegedly so. Men seem hard-wired to let standards slip when the civilising influence of women is absent. According to the late sage Hugh Massingberd, the seating protocol of man/woman/man/woman originated in the early days of chivalry, when it was noted that a more courtly pace of consumption would characterise the round tables when knights were faced and sandwiched by females. Then as now, a courtly pace was much less disruptive to the digestive system and therefore desirable. Q. Can it ever be permissible to withdraw an acceptance to a party?

Dear Mary: How can I evade nosy questions at parties?

Q. How, in a party context, can one avoid answering what used to be called ‘nosey’ questions without being rude? A revered friend counts among his intimates a priest who, when I met him for the first time, took me aside and posed the question, ‘Do you love your husband?’ Clearly the enquiry was benignly intentioned, but I was not seeking marital or any other sort of priestly guidance. Moreover the answer was neither yes nor no and consequently I felt obliged, as the priest beamed owlishly at me, to embark on a lengthy account of how irritating my husband (who wasn’t present) had recently been but how the bitterness would likely recede and therefore his long-term prospects as a permanent partner looked generally favourable.

Dear Mary: What’s the cure for a workshy teenager?

Q. I agreed to give (paid) gap-year work experience in my own large garden to the grandson of an extremely nice neighbour. I need the assistance and, in theory, a willing and able novice could learn a lot from me. The boy is due to start soon but now I’ve heard from someone who’s been in close daily contact with him that during his recent study leave for A levels, he was rarely seen off a sun lounger, where he was not even reading but was glued to an iPhone or some gaming device and constantly yawning. I don’t want to fall out with my lovely neighbour but nor do I have the time to waste on a slacker when there are plenty of hard workers out there. How should I tackle this? — F.B., Twickenham A.

Dear Mary: What’s the best way to turn down charity requests?

Q. I am the co-owner of a chocolate business which regularly receives requests for donations of goody bags and raffle prizes. I take a dim view when these come addressed to ‘Dear Sir or Madam’. It seems that the larger the charity the less likely that anyone can be  bothered. How can I, without being pompous, politely explain to people that if they only write a round robin-type impersonal letter, we are unlikely to support their cause? — N.C., London SW1 A. You have enough on your plate already, so take a passive approach and let the results of these slapdash applications speak for themselves.  Q. I am wheelchair-bound, and sometimes hire a carer from a (very expensive) agency to accompany me to various events.

Dear Mary: Is there a polite way to ask for the return of a handbag full of cash?

Q. A friend regularly hires a stall at a general neighbourhood market in order to sell surplus second-hand clothes and women’s accessories. She recently sold one of her handbags to a regular customer whom she knows quite well. Subsequently she realised that she had left her day’s takings in the handbag (quite a sum of cash). The customer has since been back a number of times but never mentioned the contents of the bag. My friend is now too embarrassed to ask outright, partly because she is only 99 per cent sure that she left the cash in the handbag. What should she do? — J.W., Sydney A.

Dear Mary: What’s the best way to squash a bore?

Q. Two acquaintances of mine have somehow inveigled their way into my dining circuit. They are men who, despite privilege and early promise, have made failures of their lives, but my goodness they both believe they have a story to tell. It’s not just tedious, but they bore with a ferocity that feels ideological in nature. After the last occasion I was determined to sort them out but was restrained by my friends who claimed they were basically good men. I know the dinner-party bore is nothing new but I wondered if you had any fresh ideas on how, with a degree of politeness, such people could be tempered and defused. — Name withheld, Epsom A.

Dear Mary: How can I make my polite English husband interrupt like a German?

Q. My dear English husband has never mastered the knack of timing his interventions in conversation. He hesitates politely, and by the time somebody pauses, his comments are no longer to the point so he shuts up. After 45 years I always know when there’s something he wants to say, and it’s become a sort of party turn that I butt in and call for order for the next speaker — which doesn’t reflect well on either of us. Any ideas, Mary? Should he signal, for example by raising his right forefinger, the hand resting on the dinner table? — B.D., Frankfurt A. This gesture is too puny to halt the egotists holding forth.

Dear Mary: How can I make sure I get frisked at airports?

Q. An architect is overseeing some builders at my house. She is a perfectly nice woman but has a maddening habit of lowering and fluttering her eyelids when talking to me. I like to be able to look into someone’s eyes when discussing important details about permanent changes to my house but it seems rude to ask her to stop, even though I know she can, since she does not do it when talking to the bricklayers or carpenters. How should I tackle this? — M.W., Gatwick A. This body language suggests the architect finds you maddening and prefers to shield her vision when talking to you. Sidestep the problem by standing next to her, rather than opposite, during discussions. Meanwhile issue a subtle reprimand by constantly asking her to look up at things, e.g.

Dear Mary: How can I spike a gossip-pedlar’s guns?

Q. On arrival at a top level dinner, I was surprised to see at the table a woman who, I have reason to suspect, sells gossip as a sideline. However, clearly no one else suspected her and, assuming it was Chatham House rules, everyone was talking freely. When one man began to regale the table with an anecdote which was bound to culminate in a dynamite piece of gossip, I was paralysed with horror but I couldn’t think how to stop him before it was too late. The consequence was that the item appeared in the press a couple of days later, causing all manner of probable future security problems to the subject of the story. Although I can’t prove it was this woman who sold or leaked the gossip, I strongly suspect she did.

Dear Mary: Help! Wet wipes keep blocking the drains at our caravan park

Q. My sister and I own a popular caravan park which, for 30 years, has given happiness to around a hundred caravan owners a week. Over the past three years, however, our small profit has turned into a loss due to the craze for wet wipes, by which I mean facial cleansing wipes and baby wipes. They block the drains and cost us £7,000 every five months in cesspit rebuilding costs. No amount of pleading to the punters not to put them down the loos has any effect. As a consequence we are going to have to close the park unless, Mary, you can think of a solution? — Name and address withheld A.

Dear Mary: Do I grass on my son’s schoolfriend?

Q. My son was invited, both verbally and via Facebook, to a schoolfriend’s 16th birthday party. However, when I met the girl’s parents at school and thanked them they said, ‘Oh, doesn’t he know he’s been culled?’ They said they had to be away during that exeat, so they’d told the girl to cull the numbers right back and just have a dinner for ten with takeaway pizzas and Netflix. Now my son says the girl has told everyone (150 people) to come anyway. She says it’s the only date everyone’s free before exams start and it will ‘ruin her life’ if she can’t have it. Besides the parents won’t know. How can I alert them that their house is about to be trashed without my son being implicated as the grass?

Dear Mary: How can we pin down our neighbours’ rogue apostrophes?

Q. We have just moved into a charming little hamlet in Warwickshire and were delighted to find a bottle of wine and a friendly card to welcome us from the neighbours. I was a little bit dismayed to see that they had introduced themselves in their card as from the ‘Paddock’s’ (sic). Our problem is that the place is hard to find and we have agreed with these delightful neighbours that we should erect a sign listing the three dwellings in question at the end of the driveway that leads to our house and theirs and, without thinking, left it to them to organise the sign. How can we politely see that the aberrant apostrophe does not appear and that they don’t shove a further apostrophe in the name of our house? —J.P., Warks A.

Dear Mary: My teenager insists on an NHS operation. What can I do?

Q. Our son, aged l6, has a medical condition which, although not life-threatening, requires surgery by a specialist to pre-empt it becoming lifestyle-threatening. The NHS waiting list is long. He has had private health insurance since birth and never yet used it but he refuses to jump the queue as he disapproves of ‘elitism and privilege’. We’ve explained that by taking up his right to go privately he would help another young man with the same condition move more quickly up the NHS list but to no avail. While we admire his ethical aspirations, my wife is having sleepless nights. — N.G., London SW1 A. First find a surgeon who performs the operation both privately and on the NHS.

Dear Mary: How can I escape the tyranny of teacher presents?

Q. It’s only April and yet I am being emailed by parents who have already taken charge and are drumming up support for collective year presents for teachers at my children’s schools. I have one son and two daughters who are all leaving their respective schools and I would prefer to thank staff members on my own terms. Am I being petty? — H.K., Hampshire A. Many parents would be relieved that this organisational chore was taken off their hands but others would agree with your instinctive reaction. If you wish to distance yourself from the herd and the modern tyranny of present-giving, say, ‘Oh dear — for the first time ever we have been efficient and really thought ahead about what we want to give. I couldn’t disappoint the children now.’ Q.

Dear Mary: What can I do about guests who don’t know how to wash up properly?

Q. I have three spare bedrooms in London and I welcome friends to come and stay. Unfortunately, some of these frequent visitors seem never to have been taught how to wash up. They think they are being helpful by seizing on things that are too big for the machine, running the hot tap continuously over them without a plug in the sink, and then leaving these sudsy pans and serving dishes to dry on the draining board. I find the waste of water maddening, ditto the lack of rinsing. How do I get people to adopt the traditional two-sinks method without seeming queeny? — Name withheld, London SW3 A. Confuse the would-be helpers by stacking the washing up somewhere unexpected — on a trolley, for example. When they ask ‘Can I tackle this trolley-load?

Dear Mary: How long must I wait to tuck in?

Q. I am always making or receiving phone calls which get cut off. When I ring the person back their line is engaged as they are trying to ring me too. Mary, whose responsibility is it to ring back when a call has been disturbed in this way? Can you use your immense authority to rule, once and for all? — A.B., London W8 A. The person who initiated the call is duty bound to ring back. It was they who made the overture in the first place and they who presumably have something to say to you. There is no implied hostility in your failure to ring them back. Although you can assume it was convenient for them to make a call just a few moments beforehand, it may well, for every sort of reason, be inconvenient for them to receive one.

Dear Mary: Is there any way to wriggle out of a phone invitation?

Q. Is there a tactful way to keep one social offer on hold while waiting to see if you have made the cut for something ‘better’ you know to be happening on the same date? It’s easy enough if the invitation comes in by email or letter, but not when you are put on the spot by someone ringing up. This happened the other day and the caller, a slightly bullying woman, sensed that I was prevaricating and said, ‘I don’t want you to feel ambushed. Take your time, think about it.’ Not wanting to be rude, I quickly accepted immediately. Inevitably the invitation for the preferred event came in by email a couple of hours later. — J.P., Herts A. The key thing is not to respond to a verbal invitation by saying ‘Help!

Dear Mary: How can I check if my dentist uncle really meant to charge me?

Q. My uncle, who is a brilliant dentist, has looked after my teeth since I was little. He also sees my children and although he runs a private practice, he has never charged me at all. I am now pregnant with my third child and told him this on my last visit. I wonder if this could be the reason why I received a bill in the post for the consultation — my first ever. He has a new secretary. How can I find out whether the secretary has sent me the bill by mistake, or indeed whether my uncle has decided that he has to draw the line somewhere and is now going to start charging? He did not mention anything to me. — Name withheld, Leeds A.