Mary Killen

Q. Before going into hospital for an eye operation, a good friend asked me if she could do anything to help when I came out. I thought this was a very kind gesture but I am now back at home and have not heard a word from her. Should I ignore this as pure forgetfulness or mention how surprised I am by her failure to enquire about my ordeal? A.L., London A. Do neither. Instead make the generous assumption that your friend is following the etiquette of not discussing illness. Guilt-mongering usually backfires so simply ask her for the help you need without ‘giving an organ recital’. This was the term used by the late Duke of Devonshire for the practice of describing operations. Q.

Q. My great-granddaughter’s parent’s relationship did not survive. The child’s mother now has another daughter. As I have the means to give my great-granddaughter education in the private sector, I have offered this, but the child’s mother wants both daughters educated at the same school for family harmony. Is there anything that you could suggest other than paying for both and using the inheritance of my great-granddaughter for this other non-related child? Thank you cordially. Name and address withheld A. I have consulted a veteran of the same dilemma. In the 1970s her very bright daughter was accepted at Godolphin, a London girls’ school which, at that time, was first choice for quality of education. Godolphin was then grant-aided and completely free.

Q. I am at a loss as to how to deal with a kind offer I’ve had from an artist to paint my portrait for free. Even though the artist kindly offers to arrange sittings around my schedule and work pro bono, etc, I am also pathologically impatient and the idea of ‘sitting’ at all, let alone in the same position for hours, fills me with panic and gloom. On the other hand, I am also quite vain and self-publicising and am not immune to the idea of being gifted a flattering rendition in oils of my fast-fading charms. How to respond? R.J., London WC1 A. Why not take your cue from ‘David’, the video-portrait made of David Beckham by Sam Taylor-Wood for the National Portrait Gallery? Fit the artist into your schedule by allowing her into your bedroom.

Q. For about four months there has been a noticeable divide between boys and girls at my school that came about through petty incidents and misunderstandings. This has left our (GCSE) year completely split between certain people and there is a sense of awkwardness. At the moment the future of the pupils’ happiness seems somewhat abysmal! I am affected by this split as I am one of the few who has not yet been affected by this divide. This leaves me in the middle of two groups of friends. I find this position demanding on my friendships with both girls and boys, especially as some of my closest friends are in conflict. Is there anything I can do to bring former friends together without being intrusive, or shall I just accept defeat and settle with one of the groups, i.e. the girls? A.

Q. Florentine society is notoriously difficult to penetrate, so a girl with whom I briefly shared a flat was delighted when I invited her to dinner and she met lots of my friends at the private art school I attend there. I also invited her to attend one of the brilliant lectures given every Thursday night by the principal of our school. The lectures are open to all but only a handful of non-students attend. The last two Thursdays this girl was waiting for me with an eager smile when I walked in, but Thursday nights are the only time I am with my fellow students when we are not all hard at work and we have a chance to talk and bond before and after the lecture. I do like her, but how can I circulate freely, without hurting her feelings but also without keeping her in tow?

Q. A friend rings every day to talk for hours about her life. While I do not mind acting as a sounding board or counsellor, I feel the whole thing is a bit one-sided, since she almost never asks how my life is going or only in the most perfunctory way. I feel it would be better for both of us if I were able to have some equity in this relationship. How should I gently point out that it would be only polite, to say nothing of humane, for her to show some reciprocal interest in my life? Name and address withheld A. Withhold from her all dramatic developments in your own life for a full month. There are bound to be some. Then have a mutual friend approach her to ask for the latest news on one of these dramas.

Q. New people have moved into our terraced street and made themselves very popular. Prior to their arrival everyone kept themselves to themselves in the typical London manner, but now there is a lot of what my husband calls ‘Coronation Street activity’ led by this very social, very community-minded couple. They are definitely a force for good, but my husband bitterly resents the threat to his privacy when one of them suddenly knocks on our front door out of the blue with something like Neighbourhood Watch news. No one other than the postman has knocked on our door (without ringing first or being invited) for 20 years until these new people came. Although the other neighbours clearly love it, we do not. We find it intrusive.

Q. I invited a couple to Sunday lunch in the country, giving six weeks’ notice. Having had no response after four weeks, I rang, not unreasonably, I thought, to prompt for one. The wife answered her mobile on a train. She apologised for her rudeness, claiming that she had a very complicated life and it was hard to know whether she would be in the country or not on the day in question. However, she promised to let me know within a couple of days. Nothing has happened. I am not going to chase her again, but if this couple is not coming, then I would like to invite two other people instead. Mutual friends say that the couple in question have a reputation for ringing at the very last moment to apologise for being flaky but to say they are available.

Q. My husband’s cousin is clever, kind and good-looking and has his own (rather grimy) flat. He works from home, and lives alone. Despite wanting to, he has never married. He and I are good friends and often have lunch. From time to time I have noticed a faint whiff from him but recently it has become quite disgusting. My husband refuses to say anything and a mutual friend tells me it is therefore my duty to tell him because it must be putting women off. What do you suggest? Name and address withheld A. Find a pretext to drop into his flat. Reel with revulsion as you come through the door screaming pleasantly, ‘What’s that smell?’ Boost his confidence by saying, ‘You and your flat have always smelt divine until this moment.

Q. On a recent visit to France, I met an old acquaintance from our village in England in the local market town. She invited me back to see her house and we went out to dinner that night and upon our return it became obvious that her intentions were amorous. Resisting her advances, I priggishly insisted on my own room for the night and retired to have a bath. The next morning I discovered that my treasured watch, left to me by my father, had disappeared from the bathroom, where I had left it the night before, beside my car keys, which were still there. Sadly the woman has form. She once removed a fax machine from a mutual friend’s house while he was away on holiday. Mary, how can I get my watch back, without actually having to call the woman a thief? Name and address withheld A.

Q. A new flatmate at university is very likeable but I get the feeling that she only half listens to what I have to say. When we are chatting at the kitchen table, for example, she interrupts me, often mid-story, to tell a story of her own. This will invariably be very entertaining but it still feels a bit insulting that she did not bother listening to the end of what I was saying. How can I tactfully cure her of this habit without making her feel that I am jealous of her being wittier or having more interesting names to drop than I do? Name withheld, Leeds A. If you were jealous you would allow her to continue with this bad habit. Nobody wants to feel that what they have to say is not worth listening to, just because somebody amusing is present to take the stage.

Q. A dear friend invited me to stay. There was a firm notice on the first landing saying ‘no dogs allowed upstairs’ but my little whippet is used to sleeping with me and she is very good. I smuggled her up to my room where, unfortunately, she had an accident within the bed. This is something which has never happened before. She must have had a tummy upset. Mary, I am a single man with no experience of laundry. I was leaving before dawn to go shooting and the help was not due in for a couple of hours. I felt I would be doing the right thing if I left the sheet to soak in my ensuite bathroom. Now my girlfriend points out that my hosts will attribute the accident to me, rather than to my dog, and I feel deeply embarrassed.

Q. I was invited to a very informal kitchen supper by a friendly neighbour and his wife. It would be just the three of us, and I strolled round there in anticipation of an enjoyable few hours of exchanging indiscretions. My problem is that when I walked into the kitchen I saw an open laptop at one end of the table laid for three — in the fourth place as it were. The screen showed a man I had not met before waving, apparently at me, and raising a glass of wine in my direction. My host boasted that he had just got Skype which would enable us to ‘have dinner’ with this man, another great friend of his, who lives in Johannesburg but who could see us through a camera in the laptop at our end. I must admit I was disappointed by this virtual intrusion.

Q. My very green sister-in-law delivered Christmas presents to our children this year by taking a train to our local station then cycling five miles from the station with the presents on her back in a jute bag. Each one was wrapped, not in paper but in cloths, which she asked me to retain, suggesting I use them to wrap her own children’s presents for Christmas 2010. This made me feel bad since the week before I had already delivered (by car) presents to her children in traditional ‘toxic’ non-biodegradable wrapping paper. I also find it slightly oppressive to have to think about these eco-friendly wrapping cloths for a further year before I can get rid of them. What are the rules on wrapping paper, Mary? Is it now a breach of etiquette to use traditional paper?

Q. As everyone knows, it is very hard to find non-cowboy plumbers in London so when our boiler broke, we went straight to an established firm of professionals. We paid £90 per plumber per hour but the job was done properly — by uniformed men who turned up on time and gave us a five-year guarantee. My problem is that my housekeeper, who I have had for nearly 30 years, kept trying to chat to the men while they were working, despite her knowing how much they were charging. The plumbers were very professional but she definitely distracted them. She even brought in her family photograph album, and asked them to look at pictures of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Once again Mary has invited some of her most distinguished readers to submit Christmas queries. From: Sir Norman Rosenthal Q. I have an old friend who for some years has run an art gallery near Bond Street. I must have said something bad about him to somebody. It clearly got back to him and after a very unpleasant letter he has crossed me off his invitation and party list. This makes me very sad, as I now never get to see his artists who are all friends of mine. I am also very close to the gallery owner’s mother-in-law. She is well into her nineties, but very active, and we often go to concerts together. My wife does not object. After the concert I take her home in a taxi. She holds my hand and once said to me, ‘Norman, you and I, we are an item!

Q. I have a small flat in a northern seaside town which I use when visiting my son, whose own property is an hour’s drive away. He also stays there when visiting for business meetings, so keeps a set of keys for my flat at his home. His 17-year-old daughter recently asked me the address of the flat, without saying why. Then, when last I arrived there, I found La Senza underwear on the floor, strange shampoo in the bathroom and curtains drawn. No doubt in my mind who had been there. (I can definitely rule out my son.) Mary, my son now denies that my granddaughter would ever do such a thing as stay in my flat without permission. Clearly if she had asked, I would have been delighted to allow her to stay, but I’m upset that she didn’t. So how do I prevent a family row?

Q. The other night I attended an enjoyable lecture on the Mitford sisters at the British Institute in Florence, the former townhouse of Harold and William Acton, who were lifelong friends of the sisters. The library where the lecture was delivered was packed to the rafters. My enjoyment was spoiled, however, by the ordinary, conversation-level chatter which was taking place between two ladies in front of me, one on each side of the aisle — and they were not even talking about the Mitfords! I am shortly to give a lecture myself, on a similar theme, and would find myself quite undermined were such an intercourse to start up while I was talking. Mary, how do you suggest I tackle such interruptions if they happen to me on my own lecture tour? M.W., Wiltshire A.

Q. At a recent event a close friend of mine said something deeply hurtful about my wife’s looks to a mutual friend. This took place in front of me. Instead of hitting him I retreated and have been in a seething funk ever since. I can’t tell my wife because his words would hit her very hard, not least because she has acted as a deeply kind and above all loyal confidante to him during a turbulent decade in his own love life. How can I let the cad know how I feel without undermining or disabusing my beloved wife? Name and address withheld A. This kind of behaviour smacks of classic intolerance to alcohol although, if out of character, it could equally suggest a pathology in the cerebellum.

Q. I have a son at day school in London. Every couple of weeks or so, one or other of his friends will invite him to their 18th birthday party. Because we have met many of the parents over the years, my husband and I are often invited too. While we are more than happy to drop our son off and stay for an hour at one of these parties for a bit of bonding in his milieu, we always make it clear that we cannot stay for longer. The problem is that the host parents — who are, of course, desperate for adult company — often put great pressure on us to stay. Not only does our son not want us cramping his style for the whole evening, but we really cannot give up the time. We are often half-tempted to stay but know we will regret it the next day.