The Daily Telegraph - Saturday - The Telegraph Magazine

Richard Madeley Agony Uncle

- Have a question for Richard? Email Dearrichar­d@telegraph.co.uk or write to Dear Richard, The Telegraph, 111 Buckingham Palace Road, London SW1W 0DT

Dear Richard

I wouldn’t say my flatmate is untidy, but he is profoundly absent-minded. He’s forever losing keys and leaving doors and windows open. During the run-up to Christmas, he went to bed leaving a scented candle burning near a frond of pine we had draped across the mantelpiec­e. I was lucky to catch it before it caught fire.

He’s a lovely guy in most ways and whenever we have talked to him about these episodes he has been hugely apologetic. But we don’t want him to be sorry, we want him to get better at this stuff. Is there any concrete advice we can give him to that end?

— Rowan, London W11

Dear Rowan

I don’t know about concrete advice: I think it’s a concrete ultimatum that’s called for here.

If you were my daughter I’d be strongly tempted to read the riot act to this buffoon myself. I’d explain to him in words of one syllable that living in shared accommodat­ion involves some basic and blindingly obvious responsibi­lities to the group as a whole.

Security. All those missing keys. Where are they? Who might have got hold of them? Why does he repeatedly leave windows and doors gaping open? Your flatmate is obviously clueless about all of this and that’s not because he’s forgetful; it’s because he simply doesn’t care. Fire risk. It sounds like he’s a menace. As you say, if you hadn’t been last to bed on ‘scented candle night’ you might all have woken up in swirling, choking smoke. Or not woken at all.

The time for sheepish ‘aw, shucks’ apologies is well past. You say he’s a ‘lovely guy’ and I suppose you want to maintain a friendly atmosphere at home. But your safety comes first – and anyway you’re not being a great friend to this guy by allowing him to persist in his lackadaisi­cal ways.

Obviously I don’t know the details of your lease, but most rental agreements will contain a few clauses relating to maintenanc­e of the property. I suspect he’s already breached at least two of these. Call a meeting of all your flatmates and tell this guy he’s on probation – a final warning. One more stupid, lazy infraction of fundamenta­l house rules and he’ll be out on his backside. Remember to get his keys back off him if it comes to this – if he can find them. Otherwise, he can leave via one of those open windows, can’t he?

Dear Richard

I spent the last week of December back in my home town staying with my parents. During that time I saw my first girlfriend again for the first time in 30 years. We have both had families and are both still happily married – or thought we were.

Nothing ‘happened’ but I would have to say there was a growing romantic undercurre­nt. We have since become friends on social media and have been messaging ever since – nothing intimate or inappropri­ate, just catching up and sharing jokes and home town stories and gossip, really. But again, I can’t pretend there isn’t an overtone of something more.

We were just teenagers when we knew each other: our relationsh­ip fizzled out when we went to university in different cities, rather than any sort of break-up scenario. I would like to have her back in my life but I don’t want to cause

‘Tell him he’s on probation… One more stupid, lazy infraction of fundamenta­l house rules and he’ll be outonhis backside’

any upheavals or hurt anyone’s feelings. Is there a safe and honourable way to proceed? — Anon, via email

Dear Anon

Yes, there is. It’s called doing a U-turn. In your case, I’d make it a handbrake turn. You are in imminent danger of crashing your life, and those of the people around you. People you love (never mind all that ‘at least I thought I did’ nonsense). To be absolutely blunt with you, Anon, you need to grow up. Preferably before bedtime tonight.

Look, I understand. You’re in the grip of sentiment, nostalgia and the tantalisin­g fantasy of what might have been. These are powerful, seductive agents – but they are conspiring to make fools of you both.

I’m sorry to be so blunt, Anon, but I owe it to you not to sugar-coat this reply. So here’s another observatio­n you might not like. If this was the love of your life, her Juliet to your Romeo, denied each other by cruel fate and circumstan­ce, why did you drift apart so promptly as soon as you were at different unis?

You are chasing the rainbow of lost youth, Anon. It’s a form of madness. Return to sanity, quickly. To put it another way: get a grip. Or I guarantee the next letter you write to me will be freighted with problems infinitely heavier and more complex than this self-indulgent and dangerous dalliance with the past.

Dear Richard

I live with my second wife and two teenage daughters, one from each of our previous marriages. For some weeks I have noticed my wife being snappy with my daughter, finding fault with her in various small ways, favouring her own child in little things such as menu choices.

I don’t think this is in any way warranted by my daughter’s behaviour, but I have to admit that my wife and I have been going through a rough patch, bickering about practicali­ties and clearly at odds over big issues in the future – like where we might retire to, and when.

It breaks my heart to see this, as the way my wife welcomed my then still quite young child into her life, and the close relationsh­ip that grew up between the two stepsister­s, has always been really moving to me. As it stands, I feel doubly at fault.

Might I just be imagining this? The two girls still seem close, and my daughter hasn’t said anything to me. I don’t want to make a big thing of it and risk making matters worse, but I feel disloyal to my daughter if I just let it slide. What’s to be done? — Alan, East Sussex

‘You should be very, very wary of accusing your wife of favouritis­m or prejudice, based on just a few weeks of snappiness’

Dear Alan

I think you need to focus on the sevenlette­r word in the opening sentence of your letter: ‘teenage’.

Adolescenc­e is a ferociousl­y difficult time for families living under the same roof to negotiate. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that. Sensitivit­ies run high. The kind of stuff that was laughed off a few years earlier assumes pregnant proportion­s and inflated significan­ce.

It doesn’t sound to me as if you have too much to be concerned about at the moment. Your daughter hasn’t complained to you about her stepmother; the two girls are getting along fine; you don’t have any issues with either of them. It seems like a fairly happy little household to me, apart from the tensions you mention between you and your wife. And these, too, are to be expected to some extent, especially at this time of year (and this year of all years).

I am sure these tensions make you hyper-sensitive to your wife’s behaviour towards your daughter – maybe excessivel­y so? I also find myself wondering if you might have any lingering feelings of guilt about any possible damage the breakup of your first marriage may have inflicted on your daughter? You’re clearly grateful to your second wife for accepting your child into her heart, but now the rocky reefs of adolescenc­e are upon you, you find yourself not quite trusting the set-up.

I think you should, and my advice is to relax. Yes, keep a watchful eye on things; but allow your daughter’s relationsh­ip with her stepmother to evolve and develop at its own pace and in its own way – and be prepared for a few clouds to scud across the horizon during these years. But you should be very, very wary of accusing your wife of prejudice or favouritis­m, based on just a few weeks of snappiness. That could open a can of worms you might quickly wish you’d left undisturbe­d.

 ?? ??
 ?? ??
 ?? ??

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from United Kingdom