Q. I have heard news of a forthcoming party which I would really love to attend. The problem is that the party is being given by a man I have met on a handful of occasions, during which we always got on like a house on fire. Unfortunately we twice left the ball in my
Q. My girlfriend and I have started using a personal trainer for some joint sessions at our local gym; the sessions are generally very good and we are really enjoying them. The issue is that the trainer spends quite a lot of the time on his mobile phone and it often distracts him from what
Q. A close friend, who has lost most of her income in recent years, has done something disfiguring to a front tooth – it looks as if she’s used Polyfilla to repair it herself. She tries to never smile so no one will see, but sadly it is highly visible. I’d be happy to pay
45 min listen
In this week’s episode: Is the Prime Minister a dead man walking? Spectator Political Editor James Forsyth and MP Jesse Norman who expressed no confidence in Monday’s vote discuss the future of Boris Johnson and the Conservative Party. (00:45) Also this week:Why is there so much virtue signalling in modern advertising? Spectator Columnist Lionel Shriver and
Q. As a mildly famous professional cook, I agreed to judge a children’s cake-baking competition at the summer fête of the tiny village I have just moved to. Subsequent conversations have worried me as I have learnt that the parents of these under-tens are taking the competition very seriously. It’s clear that the awarding of
Q. In order to raise money for a worthwhile cause, I have agreed to open my garden for the first time and provide a sit-down lunch for 30. My problem is that there are certain local people who I really don’t want to come and snoop around, but I fear that once they see the
Q. My wife’s father, who she adored, has died and she is to be his sole beneficiary. She intends to import a mass of low-grade ‘ornaments’ and unappealing furniture into our home. I’m afraid these things will, to be blunt, lower the tone of the house I inherited myself. I am fairly well-known in the
Q. I’m 28 and lucky enough to own a four-bed house in Notting Hill. I let three of the rooms to friends. One of these now has her boyfriend over regularly. It was fine when he just stayed the night occasionally but he is now omnipresent and even brings his dirty washing over. The boyfriend
Q. Some years ago, much to the surprise of our many friends in London, my husband and I moved to a remote village in Wales. We have never regretted it and often enthused to others about the area. Now we have been taken by surprise since two friends have bought a house in our village,
Q. We went for lunch over the bank holiday with the parents of one of my son’s schoolfriends. We had hardly talked to them before this. They and their friends were perfectly nice but my problem is that the slightly pushy wife kept photographing us. I am not on social media myself and had no
Q. As a publisher, I have been fortunate to discover an unpublished writer who is the author of some truly remarkable poetry. I have made my selection and want to go ahead with his first collection, but my stumbling block is that he is adamant that, along with the remarkable verses, I must include other
Q. Financially successful friends have kindly invited my husband and me to stay for a week in France. Our problem is that last time we went they asked each couple to post €200 for tips through the hatch of a postbox-style container so they could share out the money appropriately after everyone had left. Named
Q. A great friend is in a terrible state regarding a cat foisted on her by a close relation. She has become very attached to it but it keeps going next door through her neighbour’s cat flap and eating the neighbour’s cats’ food. The neighbour is a high-profile elderly lady who is getting annoyed. My
Q. My brother’s social life has dried up since his divorce (which coincided with the pandemic). So when he received a ‘save the date’ notice to a big mixed-generation party in August, I was happy to think of him catching up with old friends. Now he has been told that the party is to be
Q. I live in the Hampshire countryside, in a lovely apartment where I have the use of an old walled garden which I share with the occupant of the adjacent apartment. My issue is with my neighbour, an elderly eco-warrior. His latest crusade involves building a variety of hedgehog hotels scattered about the garden. My
Q. I am in my mid-sixties and have started to suffer from nominal aphasia. At a recent wedding in the Highlands, two very familiar faces came towards me and I couldn’t put a name to either. Worse, at a wake following a funeral, one old friend was very upset when I failed to recognise her,
Q. My husband has developed an irksome habit whenever he goes abroad without me. We have cameras outside the house which are programmed to alert him by iPhone when anyone comes or goes. As soon as I go into the garden I receive WhatsApp messages commenting on my activities, such as ‘I’m not sure you
Q. These days I am on a tight budget while many of my friends are still able to spend freely. Often when I meet someone for lunch or dinner they eat and drink far more than I do (I am careful to eat only what I can afford) yet they still presume I will be
Q. Rory Sutherland recently wrote about high-end takeaways (Wiki Man, 19 February). In the last London lockdown, I was fortunate to use the Supper app to try a number of gourmet takeaways from places such as Nobu, Coya Mayfair and Park Chinois, spending up to £100 per head. What surprised me, given that someone had
Q. Recently I started hanging out with a new friend. We are both in our twenties, single, and usually go to gatherings and talks downtown. I’m working part-time and studying, she has graduated and is working full-time. We both live in the suburbs, not too close to each other. I drive, she doesn’t, and she
