Q. We often have friends coming to stay before (and after) we all head off for Glyndebourne, a 20-minute drive away. What is the etiquette governing who should drive? It has drinking ramifications of course. Then, what is the etiquette of the seating plan in the car? — A.W., Lindfield, Sussex A. Assertive forward-planning is
Q. We have near neighbours in the country with whom I would not wish to fall out for all sorts of reasons. But they are disorganised and this is testing my husband’s (and my) patience. Whenever we go to supper with them we arrive at about 8 p.m. as requested but don’t usually sit down to
Q. I have happily overcome many moments of diplomatic and social challenge, but was stumped by the case of the licked cutlery. What does one do when one’s distinguished hostess asks to taste your soup, only to return your spoon smeared after more than a delicate sip? In a choice between not implying she has
Q. What is your view on emailed vs handwritten thank-yous? During my recent travels around pre-Brexit Europe I stayed in a dreamy house in the south of France. It was a little taste of paradise. Our host was Anglo-Scots but, since she is highly peripatetic, I asked her to which address I should send my
Q. I want my guests to feel welcome when they stay with us and certainly don’t want to nag them. My problem is with some in-laws who I can only describe as ‘un-housetrained’. It’s fine when they are downstairs where I can keep an eye on them, but their bedroom is a problem. Last time
Q. A friend constantly walks around with his bootlaces undone. His wife declines to nag him on the grounds she doesn’t want to be in a ‘co-dependent relationship’. We all enjoy this man’s company but we cannot work out whether his habit is attention-seeking (for example he often has to kick his legs out at
Q. I took an old friend to Bellamy’s for lunch. We were just settling in for a proper gossip when a couple I know were shown to the next table. Now, I’m on good terms with these two, but for various reasons I don’t want to be on better terms. Nor did I want them
Q. It was 10 p.m. by the time the canapés appeared and by then it was already too late. The well-oiled guests, including many old friends, were not drawn from the widest gene pool; many of the men had been to ‘school’ and there was a large Oxbridge contingent, of which I was one. I
Q. Further to your advice about how to refuse invitations, I had a friend, who sadly died young, who disliked many social events and conventions. At dinner parties he dreaded hearing the words: ‘Shall we move to somewhere more comfortable?’ He devised a universal response to unspecified invitations. It was: ‘I am taking a suitcase to
Q. It is difficult to know what to do when homeless people ask you for cash as you are leaving a supermarket all laden down, so may I pass on a tip to readers? Instead of claiming not to have any cash or appearing uncaring by refusing to give any (and sometimes feeling intimidated), help out
Q. Friends and I keep in touch and share our more memorable experiences on Facebook. One friend is an elderly woman who makes comments on our posts that are intended to demonstrate her wit and erudition but which never fail to come across as banal and irritating attempts at point scoring. She is delightful company
Q. I have lost many friends and acquaintances by discussing Brexit and finding fundamental differences of opinion. Recently I have had to limit supper party invitees according to their point of view to avoid heated disagreements (and more) over the table. Have you some advice for opinionated friends, and indeed the whole country, on such
Q. One of the members of our book club is particularly nosy and gossipy. I like this woman, but when it was my turn to host I had the lunch in our barn to pre-empt her snooping in the house. As soon as the barn loo was occupied, however, she began squirming and told us
Q. A friend of 30 years moved abroad three years ago. He then was diagnosed with throat cancer but mercifully has now had the all-clear. During his treatment I wrote several supportive emails. In March my sister had a massive stroke and, since her daughters both live abroad, the bulk of support for her fell
Q. My mother died a few months ago. Her collection of colourful clothes, hats, shoes and an immense amount of costume jewellery was donated to various charity shops in nearby Devizes. Consequently, I now see a diverse range of ladies wearing one of my mother’s ‘little numbers’. If I bump into a friend festooned in these
Q. A delightful but disorganised friend has invited several of our circle for a weekend at his family’s beautiful country home, having hosted a similar group last year. I have received all the particulars and accepted with pleasure. However, I know of another friend (in last year’s group) to whom the host mentioned the possibility
Q. Was I right to feel aggrieved when, having contributed a bottle of fine champagne to a small supper party, I clocked the host stashing it away, only to serve something far inferior? Commenting would have been naff, but had I known that was this gentleman’s style, I wouldn’t have taken such a nice bottle.
Q. I am a disabled man with a good brain and an independent bent. However, I need help to wash and dress, morning and night. My private carer is excellent in every way but one. He’s experienced, willing, caring, utterly reliable and trustworthy — but he’s also bossy and controlling. He insists on staying for
Q. I was invited to birthday drinks in London. On my way there the name of someone I haven’t heard from for months flashed up on my mobile. My instinct was not to answer — I’d heard the host of the party had gone off this woman and thought it best not to answer in
Q. A university friend and I want to get an invitation to a very good shoot owned by a colleague of my father. To this end we thought we could make better friends by inviting him to my club for lunch or dinner. This club is the sort of stuffy, traditional place he would approve
