Dear C,

So glad the twins came in useful being tethered to the endangered tree in your front yard and forced to sing (alright, yell) for their supper, until you finally took pity on them and took time out from your precious cocktail hour to bring them a plate of canapes. I could hear their cries of ‘Death to the Tree-Killers!’ from down the street, which was certainly an improvement upon having to listen to their sweet but incessant chatter around the house while in a fragile, jet-lagged state after our return from London yesterday. I do hope it also has the requisite effect of shaming the Village into sparing (or at least paying for) the destruction of the pox-ridden Elm on your front lawn.

As you can personally attest, the twins do have an alarming level of self-belief in the inherent interest of whatever it is they have to say, which can be endearing only to one’s own blood relatives (and frankly, not even them). Unfortunately, my girls seem to be suffering under the illusion that you too might be fascinated to learn of the mating habits of the smaller primates, which I take to be testimony to your obvious maternal abilities. My girls seem to have mistaken you for their mother, or at least someone who cares, which we both know are not necessarily one and the same thing.

Given that you are so good at listening (or faking it), would you perhaps consider doing the same for the oldballandchain? I promise this job involves nothing more than asking him to remind you what he does for a living, then sitting back and nodding while mentally engaged in something else entirely – what you are going to have for dinner, say, or whether or not that fabulous little black Lacoste dress of yours also comes in pink. Rest assured, the OBC will never guess you are not on the edge of your seat, and he may well express his undying devotion on the strength of this attention, since Lord knows he gets precious little of it at home. Whether or not this is something you might want is a different matter, of course, but I promise to reciprocate by faking it with hubby some day soon.

P.

Dearest P,

I’m so glad not to have offended you with an honest dialogue about your treasured children who are, I assure you, no more challenging than my own darlings. I feel privileged to have a dear friend with whom such insights can be shared.  As is always too clear, in our little Village, it can sometimes seem that every child is more gifted than the next and it is always a surprise when they must, as young adults, be constantly shored up by those bulky trust funds.  Alas, I do suppose a work ethic is different than enormous potential.  Only wish I could provide more of all of it to my own. »» read more