Mary Killen

Q. Six months ago an acquaintance asked me to lunch in the country, apparently to discuss some business she might be able to put my way. I don’t drive and the journey there and back was gruelling, involving taking a tube, then a train and then a mix-up over where we had agreed to rendezvous. The business proposition never materialised and lunch itself was a little trying. I accepted an offer from the highly energetic woman next to me (rather courageously clad in leather trousers) to go to a concert the following week. The event was pleasant enough and the lady appeared to know several people gathered in the foyer afterwards, so, having declined an offer of scrambled eggs in the outer suburbs where she resides, I thanked her and went home.

Once again Mary has invited some of her favourite achievers to submit personal queries for her attention. From Lord Marland Q. There are two restaurants in London which I go to very regularly. I have known the staff in both of these for a long time and they always greet me by name. ‘Yes, Mr Marland. No, Mr Marland. Three bags full, Mr Marland.’ They haven’t cottoned on to the fact that I am no longer Mister. I am not seeking to be snooty or to appear to be correcting them but how can I gracefully convey — purely for the purposes of accuracy and to put a stop to the quips from friends who are dining with me — that I am no longer Mister Marland? A. There is nothing for it but to treat your elder son to some dinners with his friends.

Q. In the summer I became engaged to a sweet young thing. We did not wish to announce our good fortune in the newspapers and have not yet set a date for our wedding. As Christmas draws nearer we are wondering to what extent we should combine our cards. Many of my friends are scattered around the world and may not meet my fiancée in the foreseeable future (although most of them — and those of my fiancée — know of my good fortune) and we wonder if it might be appropriate to send cards signed by us both, presumably with an explanation for those unlikely to be in the know. What do you think, Mary?Name withheld, London A.

Q. The convention with regard to tipping in restaurants is that one leaves 10 per cent of the bill and hopes it will go to the staff. The bill, however, includes both hidden VAT on the cost of the meal and a mark-up of 250 per cent or more on the wine. The first is a government tax, and the other has nothing to do with the staff, so I do not think I should pay 10 per cent on either. I have considered deducting one fifth of the bill and leaving 10 per cent of the remainder (after explaining to the manager what I was doing) but have not had the confidence to do so, as it might look as though my purpose was to give the staff as little as I thought I could get away with. Could I reasonably expect my point of view to be understood?C.H.C., Bath A.

Q. I attend a small weekly prayer group in my tiny local church. Some mildly personal (not intimate) matters are made topics of prayer. Before the last meeting, being a moderately vain male, I happened to have my hair styled and lightly tinted (my natural colour). Immediately on my leaving the church, the remaining three parishioners broke out into raucous laughter (I could hear them through the solid oak door). The laughter was clearly a reaction to me; I am not being paranoid. I feel reluctant to join them again, yet I should not be kept away by their finding me ridiculous. Should I ask them bluntly why they laughed at me? (‘Was it my hair, what I said, or just me?

Q. For over 23 years I have rented a beat on a South Ayrshire river. For the last six years the proprietor’s wife has cooked for my party, and her food is delicious. Since the beginning of this arrangement I have paid her a fixed sum without an invoice. This year, to my surprise, at the end of the week, her husband handed me a letter itemising the cooking costs with a hefty 30 per cent increase in the price. There was no prior notification of this increase, but I paid the account. The proprietor and his wife have become good friends, and I do not wish to upset them. How do you suggest I write to them explaining that this is not the correct way to do things and if the cook wanted an increase, it should have been mentioned ab initio when I made the booking?

Q. Several weeks ago I was asked to keep clear a date in November for a surprise 60th birthday party. In anticipation I purchased a carefully chosen and expensive gift which, being particular for the host, is of no use to me and cannot be given elsewhere or returned to the shop. The formal invitation arrived and the party is to be held at a restaurant. Enclosed with the invitation was a menu from which to choose my dinner and a request that I return my choice with a cheque to cover the cost. I have entertained the host, who is quite able to afford the price of the meal, on many occasions at my expense.

Q. I knew that legal aid lawyers like myself were facing a difficult future, but I was caught somewhat off guard when a barrister colleague told me that she had just turned 40 and wondered if she were too old to ‘go on the game’ as an alternative career option. As she is a frequent opponent, I knew that anything short of honesty would undermine my credibility with her, and yet I did not want to be ungallant. I said that I thought she could manage it, but might have to specialise. Do you think I got it about right? M.D.S., Gravesend, Kent A. Congratulations on your intelligent response to this clearly rare presentation. Q. A dear bachelor colleague has a problem with personal hygiene.

Q. I am 24 and have just thrown my first drinks party — 120 people came and, although everyone enjoyed themselves, I am conscious that I failed as a host in one important way. I did not introduce people to each other. I found it too difficult to do this as, each time I tried to shepherd someone across the room towards someone I had promised them they would meet, I found myself ambushed en route by other friends and never arriving at the target. What is the technique for circulating fluidly through a party when every single one of the guests is one of your own friends? M.B., London W11 A. In order for a junior host to achieve the maximum volume of introductions it is necessary for him to remain in position near the party’s entry point.

Q. I have received an email from a long-term dear acquaintance who lacks certain social graces because of long hours spent alone in his studio — he is a glass sculptor. It is an invitation to his birthday and he has provided two dates for a celebratory dinner, but unfortunately it has been phrased in such a way as to imply that he will reserve judgment as to which day it is to be. Given that we all have a busy social life and as an artist he is of a brittle disposition, how can I gently remind him that we cannot allocate two weekends on ‘stand-by’ as if we were budget flyers? I fear that this type of behaviour is becoming more and more common in these times of emails, texting and ‘mobile triangulating’ when it comes to social invitations. E.J., London SW1 A.

Q. I am now working from home and am therefore in situ when my Korean cleaners arrive each week. What is the correct way to behave in this situation? Although their English is limited, they are clearly intelligent; both their children have won scholarships to excellent schools. I fear that my current mode — making them cups of tea — is getting on their nerves.M.S., Rozelle, NSW, Australia A.You are disconcerting these cleaners by acting in a way that their cultural background will not have prepared them for. Whereas in the West the polite fiction is ‘we are all good friends’, in the East the polite fiction is ‘I have respect for you — particularly if I am being paid to work for you’.

Q. A few weeks ago we had a 25th wedding anniversary dance. Old and new friends came from far and wide. A clutch of beautiful presents was left for us in the hall, which we did not expect. One had an unsigned card (from a Dover Street Art Gallery). The present is the most stunning set of silver salad servers. I am in agony at being unable to thank the kind person who gave us these. Going through the guest list, I eliminated all those who gave presents with cards attached. Then I picked three particularly stylish girlfriends who were likely to have given such a present; I emailed them with my mystery but felt embarrassed. All three said they weren’t the donors but said, ‘Your present is still being made.

Q. One of my neighbours displays the most extraordinary behaviour when I go to dinner. When the guests arrive they are not offered a drink, even a soft one, for at least 15 minutes. He then pours one bottle of wine into tiny glasses. He later replenishes his own glass at the expense of his guests’. The other night, no wine whatsoever was offered with our first course. Later, a small amount of red appeared, in a decanter. There were no refills until the very end of the meal, when he poured himself, and one other male, a full glass. This has happened so often in the last 20 years that I would like to teach him a lesson. He has little sense of humour, so a jokey reprimand would not work. (My neighbours, and my ex-husband, have noticed his keenness to accept refills when out.

Q. On holiday in Greece this summer there was an area of unexpected tension in our house party. As we lay by the pool it seemed that everyone was reading either Wicked! by Jilly Cooper, or A Much Married Man by Nicholas Coleridge, or Title Deeds by Liza Campbell, or The Guynd by Belinda Rathbone. This meant that at no time could you enjoy discussing any of those titles you had read or were reading yourself because, as soon as you started, you would elicit a scream from a neighbour begging you to stop on the grounds that they hadn’t read it yet or hadn’t yet reached the passage you were talking about. Mary, this was frustrating to say the least. It meant stimulating conversation was virtually barred. How could we have managed this better?A.E., Pewsey, Wilts A.

Q. I am in the process of planning a party for my husband’s 60th birthday. We have excellent caterers in place but my problem concerns the place à table. We will have ten long tables in the marquee, each one seating 30 guests, but how can I possibly decide who should go beside whom? It is too large an event for precedence to play any part but I am already being leaned on by friends asking for either themselves or their children to be placed next to certain people they would like to know better. There is a lot of competition to be next to the same handful of people some of whom are — dread word — celebrities. How should I proceed? F.P-G., Taunton, Somerset A.

Q. Sharing my name with a well-known property tycoon and philanthropist, I frequently receive invitations for dinners and other fund-raising events from organisations expecting a substantial contribution to their cause. I am not tight-fisted, Mary, but a minimum donation of £100,000 is something I can ill afford. The problem is that such amounts are rarely stated on the invitations themselves and organisers are not prepared to divulge anything on the telephone. No doubt some invitations are meant for me, but I tend to decline them all for fear of embarrassment. How can I work out whether invitations are truly intended for me or for my wealthy namesake? D.R., address withheld A. Rather than developing a phobia about these invitations, why not turn the confusion to your advantage.

Q. I have recently started going out with a new girlfriend. She is articulate, well-spoken, elegant, witty and polite — in short, a real catch. There is only one thing that puts me off: she holds her knife like a pen. You will accuse me of being an inveterate snob, which I hope I am not. However, I know what my parents would say if I were to take her home for supper. Worse still, my grandmother! Perhaps, Mary, you will say I am making a fuss about nothing, or you will tell me not to be so snobbish. Equally, I am not trying to wheel in old-fashioned prejudice under my grandmother’s skirts. I just think HKLP is a case of bad table manners and I need your advice. Please tell me — how can I reach a solution without appearing rude? A.S., Wiltshire A.

Q. I was recently invited to stay with some well-heeled friends who were renting a house in Tuscany. Having cleared up any possible confusion about payment (I wouldn’t have to contribute to the rent), I accepted their invitation. Early one evening I was strolling on to the balcony of my bedroom, reading Juliet Nicolson’s A Perfect Summer, when I walked straight through a large metal mosquito net fitted across the doorframe. Sunglasses, iPod, panama and book were flung across the balcony as the entire structure collapsed around me. After several failed attempts to reassemble it and hearing my hosts calling me down for poolside drinks, I panicked and shoved the whole thing under the bed planning to tell the housekeeper (a charmless, surly Serb) later.

Q. A good friend of my husband’s always addresses me as ‘Gorgeous’ or ‘my sweetie’, as he does many of his other female friends. After two years it is starting to grate and I would like him to start calling me by my given name. How can I get the message across without hurting his feelings? I can’t ask my husband to say anything as he is just too tactless and his friend does mean well, even though his efforts to be suave and charming fall flat. His friend considers himself a ladies’ man but sadly just doesn’t have the ‘necessary’ to carry it off!S.W., Swadlincote A. If your concern is that other people might consider the two of you an item, then do not worry. Your body language will indicate that this is not the case.

Q. I am worried. I have to attend the banquet of a livery company so senior that white tie is the order of the day. I am now over 70 years old. My son-in-law, slenderer by far than me, has inherited my tailcoat. My hunt coat appears regularly at hunt balls, but is now worn, oh so elegantly, by a Joint Master, more my junior than I care to recall. I am staying at my club for the great night. I am not too concerned by the members. It’s the staff that worries me. You know what snobs club servants can be. When I enter the club with Moss Bros emblazoned all over the plastic suit cover, will I receive that look of cold contempt from the Hall Porter from which even the hardiest member shrinks? How can I avoid being made to feel so socially inadequate? Suggestions please, dear Mary.A.D.