Mary Killen

Dear Mary... Q. In the course of a typical week I normally spend a good deal of time travelling around the country by train. During these trips I frequently find that my mobile telephone has run short of battery because of the high volume of calls I have to make. Being on a train I have no means of recharging it. I might add that I am always at pains to avoid offending other passengers, and therefore make a point of standing in the corridor between compartments to make and receive calls on such journeys. Something which has often caught my eye is the mysterious empty plug socket that can be seen lurking at the back of the luggage racks on intercity trains. Can you tell me whether it is legally and/or practically acceptable to plug one's charger into this socket on a long journey?C.J.

Dear Mary... Q. About to depart abroad for a year, I had some friends in for farewell drinks. As they were leaving, I invited them to help themselves from the box destined for Oxfam in the hall. One picked out an ashtray and said, 'I gave you this.' And she had. Mary, how could I have responded at this mortifying moment?S.J.B., London SW1 A. You could have chuckled loudly. 'Ha ha ha! You fell for that one, didn't you? I put it there deliberately to tease you.' By using this classic fall-back excuse you would have spared your friend's feelings, if you had wanted to spare them. Some readers may prefer the approach taken by Nancy Mitford towards unwanted presents.

Dear Mary... Q. A neighbour - an eminent retired politician, philanthropist and keen ornithologist - has just acquired an owl whistle, beautifully crafted from wood. When blown, it makes a most realistic toowooo. He related to me, a few days ago, that the previous evening he had tried it out for the first time at night in his garden, and had immediately been rewarded with a most satisfying set of replies from what appeared to be a particularly rare owl somewhere in the village. The next day, another neighbour - a retired military man and also an ornithologist - showed me his latest toy, coincidentally also an owl whistle. He went on to describe with excitement a similar story, that he had tried it out a couple of evenings before with the calls returned immediately, from quite close by.

Dear Mary... Q. A problem I often run into at school is that of the 'mystery offence'. For example, arriving in my form room at the start of this term, a very dear friend 'death-stared' me and refused to speak to me. On inquiry as to how I had offended, she replied, 'You know.' What can one do in such a situation? Apologise profusely, as though knowing what is wrong, and risk, through ignorance, the same mistake again? Or continue to question and anger the friend further? I need your counsel. C.W., Edinburgh A. Your letter withholds your full name, but let us assume it is Charlotte. Rehearse a third party to inquire casually of the offended one, 'Hey, what have you done to Charlotte? Someone told me she was really angry with you about some terrible thing you've done to her.

Dear Mary... Q. For years I have suffered embarrassment at the hands of my father's gluttony - specifically his habit of ordering an entire pint of ice cream when we go out, enough to satisfy an entire family, and devouring it at the gelato shop in front of judgmental eyes obviously disgusted by the display. Since his gall bladder was removed a while back, this is not only greedy but also dangerous, as he is incapable of processing large quantities of fat. Do you have any suggestions to curtail these frozen-dessert binges? C.E., Vancouver, Canada A. It would seem that there is nothing you can do to curb these excesses, so why not turn the situation to your advantage and encourage onlookers to enjoy the display rather than despise it?

Dear Mary... Q. I refer to your advice on giving eulogies (Your problems solved, l7 August). Is not 'eulogy' suggestive of de mortuis nil nisi bonum, and therefore of formal praise which does not truly honour the dead? That aside, may I add to your wise words, because what to say at a memorial service is so important, and I learnt much from being thrown in at the deep end first time round - a devastatingly sad suicide. A wise old cleric provided me with the simple truth that it was 'not a failure of love but a failure of hope'. And that led to the most important general truth: that your audience is neither yourself nor the multitude, but the truly bereaved, and it is for their comfort that you should speak. Name and address withheld A.

Dear Mary... Q. I am recovering in hospital from a serious car accident in which - among other things - I cracked my spine. I have been overwhelmed by the messages of sympathy and concern from friends, colleagues and acquaintances alike. However, one couple, whom I had long regarded as 'friends', have not so much as murmured, although they were among the first to learn of the bad news (my wife was also injured to a lesser extent). I am afraid, despite almost 20 years' friendship, that my attitude towards them will never be the same. How should I play this in future?P.R., Berlin A. After 20 years of friendship you should be able to judge whether the couple are so egotistical that it has not occurred to them to sympathise.

Q. The person with whom I used to march, before he had to sell up, is hostile to my plan to allow wind turbines on my land. He still lives nearby and his view will be affected. He is utterly opposed on environmental grounds — the noise, the despoilation of the skyline, the fact that wind turbines do not actually save energy but just allow boxes to be ticked... I agree with him on all counts but unfortunately I am not in a financial position to resist a life-changing sum of money for doing nothing. We have been friends all our lives, and our parents and grandparents before us. Mary, how can I mend fences? —Name and address withheld. A.