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. In this way you can multi-task by sleeping while simultaneously achieving your goal.
Q. Following your recent query from P.W. of Marlborough, my daughter has been lucky enough to be invited for holidays in lovely places, like Verbier, by very nice friends from school. Our problem is that we cannot afford to return such lavish hospitality in similar fashion. How does one say thank you without creating an expectation that cannot, alas, be fulfilled?
P.G., Wield, Hampshire
A. Many Spectator readers are financially embarrassed. Some have too little, many are embarrassed by too much. Members of the latter group need agreeable witnesses to their good fortune. They do not want contributions or return hospitality but only to see happy, unspoilt faces enjoying the fun alongside them. Paradoxically, such companions are in short supply. Chippiness can make for an unsettling atmosphere when entertaining the bitter. Meanwhile the equally well-endowed can rarely accept such invitations. Your daughter will be repaying her friends just by enjoying herself. A sincere thank-you letter is all that is necessary.
Q. Re chatty neighbours knocking without telephoning first — I, too, have a chatty neighbour. She does not drop in but she sees me when I am getting into my car and comes out of her house to chat. It can go on for ten minutes and, Mary, I don’t have time! How can I cut short these chats without being rude? I have now become phobic about leaving my house.
Name withheld, London SW12
A. Before leaving your house, set the alarm tone on your mobile to the same tone as you use for incoming calls. Then set it to ring in three minutes time. Then, if you are ambushed, you can be genuinely delighted, knowing that any second you will be getting a ‘call’ which you can answer with ‘I’m just coming! Sorry I’m late!’ and will be able to speed guiltlessly away.
Q. May I recommend a first-class two-man show coming to the Jermyn Street Theatre, London SW1, between 5 and 22 May? This is an adaptation of the novel The Riddle of the Sands by Erskine Childers. I saw it performed at Doddington Place in Kent to benefit the Fynvola Foundation and can honestly say it was 90 minutes of pure old-fashioned entertainment — skill, imagination and never a dull moment.
A.F., London W8
A. I was present myself. It was deeply enjoyable. Tickets (£14-£17) from 0207 287 2875. Or why not hire the young men to perform it in your own home?
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