Vexatious Visitors & Aggravating Guests

The husband thinks we should entertain more. `How long ago was it we had people to lunch?’ he’s inclined to ask at this time of year with irritating frequency, scratching the side of his head and trying to look genuinely baffled. It’s getting harder and harder for him to understand that visitors can be a real pain in the proverbial. That might be something to do with the fact that all he has to do is pour the wine and indulge in banter. The fact that our bijou kitchen (`galley kitchen’ is the estate agents’ term) is not designed for the preparation of the exotic meals I could once throw together with abandon, seems to escape him. Even the fact that we no longer have enough chairs is infuriatingly ignored by him and when gently reminded he’s inclined to look about him in disbelief and accusation as if I might have hidden them somewhere. The only way we can comfortably provide a lunch for six to eight is to hold it in the summer time in the courtyard where eight chairs (six comfortable and two not) and two sun umbrellas beckon invitingly. And that of course was our forward plan for lunches when we moved here, and indeed the reason why we invested in the large wooden table in the first place. `It will be wonderful for entertaining in summer’ we both agreed; and we don’t agree on everything. The dearth of lunch parties is all to do with the guests if I am to be perfectly honest. `Oh – so hot out here,’ complained one former attendee, `Let’s eat inside….’ And off she went, followed almost immediately by the remainder of the guests. Next time I sent out email warnings to bring sunhats…..ignored of course. I paid a visit to the Two Dollar shop and bought half a dozen rather fetching straw hats with wide brims which nobody so far has been able to bring themselves to actually wear. Guests can be increasingly aggravating I find. The husband thinks it’s something to do with me being what he calls `petty’ and sometimes even `picky’. He could have something there but I am still inclined to find myself flabbergasted when, having spent half a day preparing a delicate summer fish lunch (for four ) – followed by Lemon Mousse (for four) I am telephoned by one of the guests an hour before arrival with a request to bring along a second cousin who is visiting from Norway. `Of course,’ I hear myself reply through gritted teeth. Well, how exactly does one say `No – that will not be OK’- ? ? ?