Mary Killen

Dear Mary... Q. I rather prefer the use, however dated, of the English version of foreign place names, such as Leghorn, Peking and Bombay. I recently had occasion, in conversation, to refer to Majorca, whereupon my interlocutor pointedly (and from the point of view of clarity of meaning, needlessly) repeated the name, very elaborately, in its Spanish form. Naturally, at the time I let this pass, but I wonder whether there might be some way, without being reciprocally rude, in which this kind of smart-arse response might be trumped. S.M., Linton, Cambridgeshire A. With Majorca, for example, one could say, 'Oh, thank you for putting me right. So is MYORCA now the fashionable pronunciation?' Your interlocutor would be bound to reply, 'Not fashionable, my dear, just correct.

Dear Mary... Q. I was driving my wife and children to the Warwickshire countryside. My mother followed us in her car. At a slanted T-junction, I stopped to allow some far-off traffic to pass. My mother, thinking, perhaps, that I was still driving like the boy racer of my youth, accelerated straight into the back of my Mercedes. The result: damaged bumper, knackered tow-bar, car in need of repair. Do I: a) claim on her insurance - with all the associated form-filling and grief? b) Claim on my comprehensive insurance and risk a premium rise next year? c) Get the car repaired and send her the bill? Please help.M.F., Nethercote, Warwickshire A. The insurers will consider it the fault of the driver whose car has done the crashing into.

Dear Mary.. Q. I have a very dear friend who lives in increasingly bohemian circumstances in the country. He and his wife have repeatedly asked us to stay with them on one of our visits to England. The fact of the matter is that their standards of domestic hygiene are not particularly high. Suffice it to say that after using their lavatory a couple of years ago my wife went into something approaching a catatonic trance and was unable to speak for three days. So far we have managed to conjure up sufficient excuses to justify our absence, but it is becoming increasingly obvious that we are deliberately avoiding their hospitality. Mary, what can we do?Name and address withheld A. Visitors to England do tend to condemn our general standards of hygiene.

Dear Mary... Q. I am in my gap year, have been travelling to Vietnam and the Far East already, and was supposed to have gone off travelling again, this time to Eastern Europe, shortly after Christmas. This trip has now been postponed for various reasons, including waiting to see whether a war will start. In the meantime, I am kicking around the house all day. Can you recommend any reasonably well-paid work, other than cold-calling, that an as yet unqualified 19-year-old can start and stop at short notice, and even do from home if necessary? L.C., Andover, Wiltshire A. One in five public schoolchildren is currently infested with headlice resistant to all known treatments.

Dear Mary... Q. The story of Red Chris in last week's issue brings to mind another tricky issue about house parties, and that is the subject of bringing presents. As a host who occasionally entertains in the country, I do not expect guests to arrive with a gift but am nevertheless delighted to receive one if they do. My pleasure does not, however, extend to receiving second-hand goods. A good friend of mine, the owner of a hilltop estate in Wiltshire and a schloss in Austria, recently came to stay with his wife and four children, and presented me with a box containing a small bar of soap and three bottles of bath unguents, all inscribed 'The Franklin Hotel', along with a miniature bottle of whisky from the hotel mini-bar.

Dear Mary... Q. As a newly commissioned officer in a regiment that considers itself both pukka and professional, I have recently encountered a problem concerning the etiquette at formal dinner nights. Once seated, one may not rise for relief until after the Colonel has done so. This may be at least three hours, even longer with speeches. Not consuming alcohol would be considered particularly bad form. A friend (not in my regiment), unable to contain himself any longer, availed himself of a decanter, unfortunately incurring the severest of penalties. I have heard that it is possible to remove one's mess dress coat, revealing one's dress shirt, and thus, disguised as a waiter, slip out carrying some plates. Re-entrance would be accomplished in a similar manner.

Dear Mary... Q. Can you suggest an original birthday present for a novice gardener who is not yet very experienced?S.B., Aldeburgh, Suffolk A. Yes, you can buy 1,000 worms for £35 from the Green Gardener at Rendlesham. Curiously, you can freeze worms, then bring them back to life - rather like those little magic fish available from toy shops. Your friend can thump the worms out of their container and down a pipe leading to the centre of her compost heap, where they will go about their business and render the heap a desirable consistency in half the time it would normally take. Q. My husband and I will be entertaining a member of the royal family to dinner in the near future, and wish him to meet a female friend of ours, as we know that he will appreciate her sense of humour.

Q. Friends of mine have parents who moved to this neck of the woods three years ago. The parents bought a property with a tiny garden and consequently very much wanted to find an allotment. An elderly lady living in a stately home nearby was dividing up her walled kitchen garden and gave them a plot within this. The allotment has been a great success but my friends' parents are now faced with a dilemma. The elderly lady is moving to a dower house and would like the couple to leave their existing allotment and start another one in her new garden. Meanwhile, the son and daughter-in-law who have moved into the big house are also very keen on the couple and want them to stay on in the walled garden.

Dear Mary... Q. A couple of years ago you advised readers to minimise present-buying stress at Christmas by finding something that would be acceptable to people of all age ranges and simply buying up said item in bulk. This year I took your advice and feel I must share with readers the great success that I enjoyed with my bulk purchase of butler's trays from IKEA. These trays are deep and come in painted-white-wood effect with fold-up stand. They were received with delight by both adults - who saw them as ideal bedroom accessories - and children who used them to provide surfaces to play on and to contain little messes of small plastic toys. At the end of the day, said messes can be lifted up wholesale to the child's bedroom; all this for only £17 a tray. F.W., London W8 A.

Dear Mary... Q. I rarely shoot, since I have always been a hopeless shot. However, I recently went out for a day and was rather pleased to shoot a woodcock. At the end of the day, as the keeper was loading my car, I was surprised to see only pheasants in the boot. 'What happened to my woodcock?' I asked. He replied, 'Oh, Lady X [my hostess] is rather partial to woodcock. She's kept that back for herself.' This seemed to me rather unjust, and I wondered if I had been 'abused', in today's parlance. Was I wrong to have assumed that he who shoots it gets it, so to speak?A.C., London W12 A. Yes, you were wrong. The correct etiquette on a shoot is that everything belongs to the host.

Dear Mary... Q. I am a hereditary peer. I am also in the auctioneering business and my work takes me to the United States, where confusion frequently arises over my Christian name. What is the most tactful way for me to correct those who have misunderstood the details on my business card and assume that my parents actually chose the name 'Lord' rather than it being thrust upon me, as it were?Name and address withheld A. Let us assume that you are Lord Blunderbuss and that your true Christian name is 'Peregrine'. The very first time the misunderstanding is confirmed - when, for instance, someone says, 'Good to meet you, Lord' - you should reply, 'Oh, just call me Peregrine. I never use my title.

Dear Mary... Q. Please help! I recently met a wonderful girl whom I find quite enchanting. She's beautiful, creative and successful in her own business, and I find that I am always thinking about her. I am concerned, however, that she might be a bit thick. While on her way to an important trade event in Paris, she asked me to recommend restaurants where she could take staff and clients. I recommended, among others, one of the newest and most chic 'designer' restaurants that I have frequented, as I often travel to Paris on business. On her return she thanked me for the recommendation. Recently, however, I was told quite confidentially that she didn't consider me to be a suitable new friend because of this same recommendation.

Dear Mary... Q. During lunch at the house of some friends of my parents, I was put between two boys from Bryanston who talked across me through each course as though I didn't exist. I did not take their rudeness personally - in fact, I was quite sleepy that day and would have been quite happy to drift off into a personal reverie had not their voices been quite so loud. What should I have done to remind them to mind their manners?M.G., Fosbury, Wiltshire A. Wearing a kindly expression on your face, as though dealing with the disabled, you should simply have stood up and moved along one place. Standing behind the offender on your right, you could have said, 'Please, do change places with me and then you can talk to each other without my being in the way.

Dear Mary... Q. Could you give me some guidance on how to keep my parents' and acquaintances' opinions about my single life to themselves? At 32, unmarried without children and happy about it, I hear a regular chorus from the parents and assorted people: 'You ought to get married sometime soon'; 'Shouldn't you be finding a wife by now?' etc., etc. As if I could just pop down to Harrods this sunny afternoon, pick up a sweet young thing without a second thought, maybe even find a nice one off the rack at a 10 per cent discount. How can I let them know that their opinions and helpful suggestions are of no value to me, without ruffling any sensitive feathers?D.V., Salt Lake City, Utah, USA A.

Dear Mary... Q. My social life and my job depend to a degree on my contacts with the aristocracy. During a recent visit to a stately home, I had an unfortunate reaction to alcohol and rich food. The result, without going into too many details, was that I had no alternative but to take my bed linen with me when I left. I have not yet corresponded with my hostess. How can I explain the absence of the bed linen? Clearly it would be inadvisable to tell the truth. Although my hostess is/was fond of me, I doubt our relationship could survive it.E.H., London W8 A. You should spare your hostess the full details. Go to Peter Jones or John Lewis and buy replacement bed linen as similar as possible in quality and size to the desecrated linen.

Dear Mary... Q. At a party recently we reconnected with a couple we had not seen for a few years. We agreed to have dinner soon, and duly invited them. They then had us back, and we were happy to have re-established the relationship. When we next invited them for dinner, they accepted enthusiastically, saying that they would love to come provided that they did not take a spontaneous holiday. So I sent them a postcard reminder and went on holiday for three weeks. When I returned, having heard nothing to the contrary, I expected them to show up, which they did not. One of our guests said that she had seen Mrs X not three days before and they had said to each other, 'See you Friday night.

Dear Mary... Q. Last week I had dinner in a restaurant with some old friends whose number included a woman we all like a lot with her new (younger) boyfriend. The latter responded to every question about himself and his work as though he was his own public-relations officer. Everything was going very well, everyone rated him very highly, all his projects were extremely successful (he is in the film business) - it was most off-putting. The man was not even American. How can we honestly respond when she asks for our opinion of him? (She had been on the shelf for some time and we do not wish to be discouraging.)Name and address withheld A. Time was when lack of modesty in an Englishman was a fail-safe yardstick for judging. Cultural changes have rendered this method obsolete.

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.