Mary Killen

Q. We live exactly halfway between London and Cornwall. People often ask themselves to stay so they can break the journey and we usually say yes — we need outside company to liven things up around here. My problem is that we are short of cash these days and I have started doing b&b. I

Q. I receive a huge number of invitations. This is no reflection of my status i.e. I am not powerful or rich or anything, I just know hundreds of people and in this I am probably quite typical of anyone else of my age (25). My problem is knowing how to reply when asked to

Q. I am a man of modest means but every year my cousin allows me to use his country house to host a cricket match against the village close to the family seat in the West Country. I invite members of the itinerant London-based team for which I play, and their families, to stay for

Q. How can you have people to stay the night — but not the next day as well? My parents have bought a flat in London. They have given my brother and me keys so we can use it when we want. This is amazing but the problem is that the flat is really central

Your problems solved Q. I have met a man who, despite being 66, is very fanciable. He has been paying me some attention. The problem is that he spits while he is speaking. I think this is a new habit: his former wife and long-term girlfriend have high standards and would not have put up

Q. I thought I was au fait with road users’ etiquette, but confess to being nonplussed when confronted by the advisory signs Baby on Board or race horses in transit displayed in vehicles. Mary, what is the correct reaction to this information? Should one hoot? Cheer? Smile sympathetically? Flash the headlights? Pray? Depending on your

Q. May I pass on a tip to readers? Three of my sons are revising for exams at the moment, all in the face of the usual sorts of distractions from social networking sites, cricket and football score alerts, to say nothing of emails pinging into their laptops. I was therefore delighted when they told

Q. I recently met an old friend I had not seen for some years. Answering his question about my meeting with a certain film star, I mentioned cosmetic surgery, in a disparaging tone. He seemed confused rather than amused, and after we parted it dawned on me that perhaps he too had ‘had work done’.

Q. My friend John sets the standard of dress for our small community. It has come to his notice that HRH the Duke of Edinburgh is sporting black suede shoes with black tie. I think John is keen to adopt this mode of dress but is unsure about it. I think he should stick to

Q. I belong to the clerical profession, one to which, in theory, a certain dignity adheres. I particularly dislike ‘trendy’ abbreviations of my Christian name. On meeting recently a new ecumenical colleague I introduced myself as ‘David’ and he replied: ‘Oh great, I’m a Dave too!’ I was lost for words. What should I have

Q. We normally drive guests departing our house in France to our nearest station for trains connecting them to Eurostar. One departing guest, an attractive divorcee, had half an hour to kill, so I suggested a croissant and coffee, which meant lugging her very heavy case over to the café and back again to the

Q. Thank you for your advice regarding my ‘fecundity’ question (24 March), but I did refer in my question to a gastronomic salon i.e. a private house. The location was not a restaurant and no need to drop credit cards around! —R.S., Bombay A. I must apologise to readers for advising R.S. how to shake

Q. After dining at a well-known gastronomic salon in Bombay with two gap-year visitors, together with two exceptionally pretty girls working in Bombay, we were sitting in a side room, whereupon a gentleman with a straggly beard tried to join our group with the following comment: ‘Eh… fecundity — there is nothing like a polysyllablic

Q. My daughter’s bedroom window has a clear view down into next door’s kitchen. Yesterday she drew my attention to several mice who were bolting out of the kitchen skirting, feasting on crumbs and having a high old time while my neighbour (who is very nice but not a bosom pal) was safely upstairs putting

Q. Over the last 20 years four of my closest friends have moved abroad. The good thing is that they come to stay with me when they are in London. The bad thing is that invariably, when they are packing up to leave our house for their cheap flights, they find that they have somehow

Q. A talented young man helps me out as an intern. Sadly I can’t personally offer him full-time work but I have a close friend who will be recruiting shortly. This man tells me he will be looking for young people who are bilingual and super-bright — but that he prefers school leavers to graduates

Q. Our son is at school in England with the son of a billionaire. They have become friends and we would like to invite the child for the week-end. However, our own manor house, while of historic and architectural significance, does not offer the opulence to which our prospective guest might be accustomed. How can

Q. In the light of WikiLeaks and Facebook, should the Chatham House rules still apply in civilised society? My life is rather mouvementé just now and, although I have no immediate plans to publish it, I feel it a duty to keep a diary. Unfortunately my wife thinks there is an element of sneakiness about

Q. At a drinks party I was introduced to a senior politician and found myself lost for words. I was not overawed, Mary, the problem was that although I admire the man, every gambit which went through my head seemed to be intrusive, patronising, critical, grovelling or stalker-like. I would like to be better prepared

Q. I have two sons. The elder speaks in RP, like his parents; the younger with an estuarine accent. They went to the same state school. What should I say when acquaintances who have met both boys question this anomaly? I find it difficult to explain without making both sons seem pretentious. — Name withheld,