Mary Killen

Mary Killen

Dear Mary: Is it rude to answer my child’s call when I’m already on the phone?

Q. My problem is that an older friend, with whom I enjoy lengthy telephone chats, becomes furious when my call waiting service flashes up the number of one of my elusive children and I ask if I may put her on hold very briefly. She says it is rude to her, that I have spoilt my children, and ‘they’ll just have to wait’. My friend is not in touch with the frantic pace of the modern world and does not grasp that the child may not respond if I call back five minutes later, thus causing me anxiety. I value our conversations but we have reached an impasse. What should I do? — M.W., Pewsey, Wilts A. If you are on your mobile, say ‘Can I call you back from a landline?’ and vice versa if you’re already on a landline.

Dear Mary: How would you answer Radek Sikorski’s goose-stepping question?

Q. In his Spectator notebook of 30 August, describing a recent gaudy at the Oxford college he attended in the l980s, Radek Sikorski asked, ‘Dear Mary, please help, what do you say when asked: “Do you remember goose-stepping in your jackboots across the Chapel Quad lawn at four in the morning?’’ Mary, may I press you for an answer?’ — L.P., London SW1 A. He might have best replied: ‘Nearly right. My goose-stepping — but your jackboots, surely?’ Q. I recently paid a fortune to a salon in Primrose Hill so that my ten-year-old daughter and I could be de-nitted.

Dear Mary: Is it an insult to be given anti-ageing cream?

Q. When someone gives you anti-ageing cream as a present, is that an insult or a compliment? — A.O., Provence A. It is both, but such creams make pointless presents. Cosmetics are all to do with suggestibility: for them to work, the user must be the one who has studied the spiel on the packaging and decided it seems plausible. Well-wishers should also consider that products with names like ‘emergency filler’, ‘intensive repair’ and ‘total elasticity loss rescue’ on daily display on a bathroom shelf can eventually depress an onlooker. Q. We have taken our children on holiday to the same beautiful cottage on the Cornish coast every year since they were born.

Dear Mary: Show me the tactful way to pay for a lift

Q. My neighbour is really lovely and always helps me chainsaw trees. He used to be the herdsman at the farm but was laid off last summer when they sold the herd, so now he is unemployed. Friends from London often borrow my cottage when I am away and I am sure my neighbour would welcome £10 a time to collect them from the station. He is now being paid a small monthly amount to keep the garden in order for the new owners of the Big House but I don’t want to seem grand or patronising by asking if he would be interested in regular taxi work as well. —Name and address withheld A. Use a friend as a human buffer. Next time someone comes to stay, ring up the neighbour a couple of hours before to inquire whether he could possibly do you a favour by collecting them.

Dear Mary: What do we do with a teenage guest who hogs the bathroom?

Q. We have taken a flat in Edinburgh for a month and a young girl, temporarily homeless and a friend of one of our sons, has moved in with us. We like her very much but the problem is that she goes into the (only) bathroom for more than one hour at a time, sometimes twice a day. It is so unbelievably selfish but my son doesn’t want to embarrass her by saying something. How should I deal with this without making her feel unwelcome? — M.G.C., Edinburgh A. Take the lock off the door. Say the landlord has been round and done it for some reason. She will not feel so secure in there with no lock. Meanwhile, instigate a new house rule.

Dear Mary: Help me hunt down my priceless missing book

Q. A scholarly book of great importance to me appears to have gone missing from my library. It was heavily annotated so it is irreplaceable. I lend books all the time and I have a strong feeling I have lent it to someone, but I just cannot remember to whom. I can remember the last time I saw it and have emailed all those who signed the visitors’ book since, asking whether by any chance they have borrowed it — but it seems that none of them has. I feel it would be a tad accusatory/Alzheimery to send a round robin to all friends and colleagues to ask whether they have by any chance been to my house in the last six months and borrowed it. — K.N.H., Oxford A. Instead, send a round robin email asking if anyone happens to have a copy of the book that you could buy.

Dear Mary: How to accept wine refills at parties without getting drunk

Q. At a drinks or a dinner party, when very attentive waiters are hovering, I tend to let them keep topping my glass up since the alternative — continuing to say ‘no thank you’ — is so disruptive of conversation. However, my wife tells me that other men clearly manage to find a way of keeping track of how much they have had since other men don’t seem to get as legless as I do. What do you suggest, Mary? — R.B., Exeter A. Have 20 coins in your right-hand pocket. Each time the waiter fills you up, mark his input by discreetly transferring one coin into your left hand pocket. Assuming that a waiter refills no more than a third of a glass at a time, by the time you can feel ten coins in your left-hand pocket, you’ll be ready to switch to water.

Dear Mary: How can I tame my brother’s savage table manners?

Q. I live far away from my brother and his family, but went to stay with them recently for the first time in many years. Having supper was like eating a meal with the starving. Brother, wife and their young teenager hunched down low in order to be nearer to their large plates of stew, which they ingested by noisy slurping and eating off both forks and knives, scraping the plates clean intently and, in my brother’s case, lifting plate to mouth to make sure the last bit of gravy went unwasted. Sister-in-law holds knife and fork like pencils. Child is learning the same. My mother would have been horrified at this Hogarthian scene, as was I. I also felt sick. How can I help them to mend their ways? — K., London A.

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.