Mary Killen

Dear Mary... Q. Every day I find myself reading Today’s Birthdays in the Daily Telegraph. Do you know how I go about being included? Is a title helpful? (If so I will have to try harder.) The other day, there was a list of such types, toffs every one of them — to name but one, Sir David Montgomery. I am confident you can help me fulfil a lifetime’s social ambition, as I am sure you must appear on the list yourself.W.G., Stoke Rochford, Lincolnshire A. As with everything today, presenteeism has its part to play in being noticed. The two ladies who would decree your appearance can often be seen taking names at memorial services, and you can reinforce their awareness of your existence by regularly pressing your engraved card into one of their hands.

Dear Mary... Q. In their light-headed enthusiasm, some of the disciples of the late Dr Atkins seem to have lost their social judgment as well as their weight. Last week, whilst dabbing at her crocodile tears on having to discard so many of her wonderful clothes, a very good friend offered me first choice. Unusually for me I was stricken dumb. Mary, how should I have responded?A.C., Galway A. If you were feeling chippy you could have replied, ‘Poor you. Shouldn’t you keep them for when you put it all back on again as you inevitably will?’ But I see no call for chippiness. Unless your friend is suffering from projected body dysmorphia, there is no reason for her to think you are fatter than you actually are.

Dear Mary... Q. For my husband and me the racing world has always been a source of Elysian happiness and this weekend we are taking our children to Newmarket races. There a problem looms. Our trainer enjoys heroic status in our household and our children have reached the age where they are beginning to participate in adult conversation. Although we do not allow our own standards to slip, we are worried they may be confused by our apparent acceptance of our trainer’s barrack-room vernacular. How can we explain this to the children?S.T., Chirton, Wiltshire A.

Dear Mary... Q. While staying in Provence recently, as the guest of some friends from Suffolk, my host, albeit an Englishman to his core, appeared every evening in a different pair of monogrammed velvet slippers (stags rampant on coronets, HS entwined with stags rampant, etc., etc.). Knowing that his wife (who, incidentally, is a very close friend of mine and was away in New York at the time) does not allow him to wear his monogrammed velvet slipper collection outside Suffolk environs, and certainly not out of the shooting season, I found myself somewhat forced to comment on this fact. I subsequently told his wife, who was quite apoplectic with rage at her husband's excess of bad taste. How can I ease my way around this marital tiff and ensure my place on their guest list next summer?J.

Dear Mary... Q. Like an earlier correspondent this summer, my wife and I find ourselves in the invidious position of being asked, very much as an afterthought, to the wedding of friends to whom we considered ourselves close. Worse, on the grounds that they had 'run out of' the real thing, we have not even been sent a proper invitation, but a photocopy. How can we best express our dismay at having this B-list status so blatantly thrust upon us? H.R.-T., East Lothian A. Punish the couple by the following means. Arrange for a third party, posing as a Sloaney factotum service, to ring them to arrange a time for courier delivery of a Minton dinner service or similar luxury wedding present.

Dear Mary... Q. Our 15-year-old daughter was invited as a guest to accompany a schoolfriend on holiday with her friend's father and stepmother (whom we have not met) as the elder sister did not wish to go. In a telephone conversation to discuss possible dates that would not conflict with our own family holiday, my wife offered to contribute towards the cost of the holiday, suggesting that we pay the airfare, as we have for our son when he has been invited to stay with friends abroad. Out of the blue we received a letter two months later informing us that they were booked into a five-star hotel for two weeks in Italy and that the exact cost of our daughter's holiday was in excess of £2,000.

Dear Mary... Q. I regularly enjoy Sunday lunch at a premier hotel here in Bangkok. The food is exceptional and the Thai service staff friendly and professional. Staff recognise and greet me on arrival with a warm, formal 'Good morning, Mr Smith'. A couple of Sundays ago, chatting with an attractive waitress by way of a little innocent flirtation, I suggested she call me 'Michael'. Since then I am greeted with 'Hello, Michael' on arrival by all and sundry at the hotel. Clearly she thought this was my preferred form of address and advised her boss accordingly. Being Thai, they were not aware of the subtlety. Mary, how can I solve this problem without embarrassing her or appearing to the staff to be a snob?M.S., Khlongsan, Bangkok A.

Dear Mary... This week, Mary is dealing exclusively with problems relating to table manners. Q. When eating, my 15-year-old daughter knocks her teeth with her fork or spoon. She is very amenable to being corrected, but we are about to join a large house-party where we will all be eating en famille, and I can't nag her in public. I can't stand the noise, so I imagine that none of the other adults will be able to stand it either. What do you suggest, Mary? C.H., London SW18 A. Choose an anodyne expression such as 'Have you got enough salt?' and collude with your daughter that when she hears this question it is a coded message for 'stop knocking your teeth'. Q.

Dear Mary... Q. What should you answer when a lady whom you have not seen for 30 years greets you with the question, 'You do not remember who I am, do you?' when you don't?P.S., Cornwall A. You should not worry. Such a lapse in memory is not the offence it was in the days when circles of friends and acquaintances were more manageably sized. Thirty years ago it would indeed have been hurtful not to remember someone who remembered you – particularly if that person had conceived a romantic longing for you and spent hundreds if not thousands of waking hours daydreaming about the possibility of your union. To reassure this particular lady, it might have been kind to let her have the upper hand by responding in confidential tones, 'As you can probably see, I'm not the man I was.

Dear Mary... Q. Is it now de rigueur to offer one's dinner-party guests expensive chocolates along with their coffee or tisane? If the answer is yes, then I am afraid that I personally cannot afford to shell out a further tenner on top of what I will already be spending on food and wine. Plus I think it slightly disgusting and self-indulgent when a treat becomes the norm. What do you think, Mary?S.W., London W11 A. I agree with your last point. The trouble is that, although it is not de rigueur to offer expensive chocolates, many people's palates do now seem primed to receive them following dinner. Guests will even boldly ask if any are available. You can be prepared for this eventuality with a compromise.

Dear Mary... Q. A few days ago I was in a flat belonging to one of my sister's friends, whom I do not know very well. On visiting the bathroom, I discovered a lavatory, no paper, a bidet and a neat pile of clean fluffy towels. Never mind what I actually did; what would have been the proper course of action?Name withheld, London SW8 A. As a female, you were correct to be wary. This situation was less straightforward than it seemed. The first course of action open to you was to use the bidet and a clean fluffy towel, but the result would have been a 'used' towel with no obvious receptacle wherein to dispose of it. What if the person before you, equally embarrassed by the lack of a disposal option, had folded their used towel neatly back into the pile, complete with DNA samples?

Q. A colleague who sits next to me at work has a propensity to break wind violently whenever he feels inclined to do so. Far from being embarrassed by these eructations, as I imagine most people would be, he seems to see it as a social indelicacy on a par with coughing or slurping coffee; that is to say, not necessarily polite but certainly nothing to apologise for. Needless to say, I feel rather differently. How do I broach the subject without awkwardness? I have tried getting up and walking away every time the malodorous offences are committed, but he doesn't take the hint. Whether this has anything to do with the fact that he is American, and unaware of British standards of office etiquette, I couldn't say, but I am reaching the end of my tether.Name and address withheld A.

Q. Having just sold a flat, I have some spare cash which I wish to put to good use for my family. My grandson George recently had a nasty operation on his knee, and my daughter was, at the time, not quite sure how much the medical insurance would pick up. I sent her a cheque for £5,000 to lessen her worry — and I also said that if she didn’t need it now to put it into a separate account in case of complications. I know that my letter arrived, but I now find, three weeks later, that she has not paid this cheque in. Is she lazy, forgetful or simply uncaring? What do you think? I am frightened to ring her.Name and address withheld A. Perhaps your daughter is earning ‘funny money’ in the City, and your own real money has had a reduced impact on her.

Dear Mary... Q. On doctor's orders, I've recently had to lay off some of my favourite foods – bread, shepherd's pie, spaghetti carbonara, etc. Would it be polite to refuse a dinner invitation, when I know that the food served won't agree with me, especially as it's to a celebratory party for an old friend I used to run around with, who is shortly to come out of prison?Worried, address withheld A. Invitations to the party you mention are highly sought after, for a number of reasons. There is no need for you to refuse yours since, given that the new social equation is self-disciplined/neurotic equals A-list, you can guarantee that a good third of your fellow guests will be following weirdo exclusion diets.

Dear Mary... Q. I have been giving a summer drinks party in my London garden each year for the past 20 years. It has become something of a fixture on the social calendar and I am loth to give it up, but now a ruthlessly frank friend has suggested that this year I move the party inside the house. She points out that none of us is getting any younger, and that the brightness of the early evening light is not flattering. She says that she is not alone in finding it painful to contemplate a garden full of contemporaries, many of whom were stunners in their prime, 'all advanced a little further in their deterioration since the year before'. The lighting inside the house would be more flattering, but the house is cramped and the garden is my pride and joy. What do you suggest, Mary?

Dear Mary... Q. I understand that, even though my husband and I are reasonably well paid (our joint income is £65,000), we may still be entitled to something called child tax credit for our new baby – this on top of child benefit. How do I find out if this is true with the minimum of annoyance, Mary?T.St.A., Cornwall A. I am glad that you brought this matter up. Astonishingly, you are probably eligible for some monies, since apparently anyone with an income of less than £66,000 and a child under one can benefit. Those couples with joint incomes of less than £50,000 are entitled to credit worth £545 annually at the very minimum.

Dear Mary Q. My new wife, I have discovered, has a disturbingly communal disposition. From a large, somewhat boisterous family, boarding-school bred and a once committed Girl Guide, she thinks nothing of barging into the bathroom during my ablutions. Worse still, she seems intent on conversation with me, particularly when I'm on the loo. Without appearing neurotic, and being careful to avoid offence, how might I go about breaking her of such habits before the glow of an otherwise promising coupling begins to fade? H.B., Mudgee, NSW, Australia A. You do not mention whether your wife performs her own ablutions in front of you, but, in any case, whether hailing from a large, boisterous family in Australia or not, she should be discouraged from going any further down this very personal path.

Dear Mary... Q. An adored friend, with whom I regularly have lunch, always insists on 'supporting' his club. These lunches are deeply enjoyable but, as the member, my friend is the only one allowed to settle the bill. I have tried pressing cash on him when off the premises but, although he knows I have more funds at my disposal than he does, he always refuses outright. As he simply won't go elsewhere, I have no opportunity of returning the hospitality. I know I am not the only beneficiary of this largesse (which he can ill-afford) and that, frankly, his wife feels rather tight-lipped about the whole business. What can I do? S.H., London SW1 A.

Dear Mary... Q. Earlier this year we went to stay with friends in Devon for the weekend. Our host went to tremendous trouble trying to find enough horses to enable our whole family (of six) to hunt. We had brought with us a present of a small box of chocolates and when, on the Saturday evening, our hosts took us out to dinner at a neighbour's they brought these chocolates with them, exclaiming cheerfully in the car on the way, 'I thought we'd give them your delicious chocolates. I'll tell them they are from all of us.' Either wittingly or unwittingly, they thereby conveyed to us their view that a small box of chocolates is a suitably proportionate present for a dinner party rather than for a weekend. Next time we go there, how do you suggest that we compensate for our negligence?R.O.

Dear Mary... Q. A friend of mine has a maddening habit. She rings me from her mobile saying urgently, 'Can you ring me straight back?' then hangs up. Clearly she believes that it is much cheaper for me to ring her mobile from my landline than vice versa. This may or may not be the case – who has the time to read leaflets from the telephone companies and work it out? – but if she wants to talk to me, usually just idle chatter, then my feeling is that she should pay. Am I right, Mary? Or have I gone quite mad?P. de Z., London NW3 A. Why not turn all this pricing confusion to your advantage?