The Problem
LIZ has been this woman's friend for years. Together they have been through life's highs and lows. But recently a young man, the son of Liz's cousin, has been visiting her, flattering her and, in the opinion of her friend, behaving like a scrounger and a con man. Liz has already paid for a foreign holiday and a deposit on a car for this boy who is and looks like remaining unemployed. Is her friend to watch this in silence from the sidelines, or should she intervene.
ALL around us today there are people whose minds are filled with problems: should they speak or should they not speak? Does a true friend speak out and kill hope and optimism in the name of being realistic? Or does a true friend generously give a warning in order to save dignity? Is it better to tell the cheerful, confident man who thinks that he has a future in the company that you know he is about to be fired? Is it kinder not to tell the woman happy in her new relationship that her new man has a track record of playing the rat which is the length of a gorilla's arm?
Some people think that to intrude at all into any aspect of another person's life is unacceptable, that it defines you as busybody. Indeed, one of our correspondents today takes us all to task for trying to do that.
There are others who think that none of us is an island and that friendship involves more than two men drinking a ruminative pint after work or six women having a gossip at a girls' night out. So, this business of telling or not telling must depend on individual circumstances.
Most of us would tell anyone, even total strangers, that they have spinach on their teeth or a rim of coffee stain around their mouth. You'd alert someone to the fact that their flies are unzipped or their skirt hitched up at the back.
But you might stop short at telling someone he had such an unpleasant personality that everyone within miles is taking steps to avoid him.
I was certainly very pleased with the person who pointed out that I was wearing my dress inside out five minutes before I got up to make a speech - but I was rather less pleased with another person who told me (entirely for my own good, she insisted) that I was a bit too loud and could be heard laughing from the other side of a restaurant. Both were acting from the best of motives, so why was one acceptable and one not?
Possibly it's a question of degree. Anyone in a great hurry could put on a dress inside out. Only a horrible, booming person could be heard across a whole restaurant.
What about friends? I've listened grimfaced in the distant past when good friends said their piece briefly and unwillingly about someone I liked and they didn't. It didn't make me think any the less of them - in fact, I admired them more because I knew it took such guts and it was done from the heart. But it didn't change my allegiance in the least - in fact, it made me more steadfast in my devotion to someone who was, as I thought, so widely misunderstood.
When it turned out that they were right and I was all wrong, there wasn't a hint of "I told you so", no triumphal gloating. Yet again, friendship was proved to have been constant and strong.
I know a woman whose husband was behaving so badly and so publicly with someone else that her friends eventually felt they had to tell her. They couldn't bear her being so humiliated in front of her family and colleagues.
Their thinking was that she could then decide what to do - they assured her that it would never be mentioned again, it was just that she needed the information and could then do what she wished.
It turned out that the information was the last thing she needed. She told them coldly that they had destroyed her life: yes, sometimes she might have suspected that he strayed, but she had NEVER wanted to be presented with hard facts and the realisation that she was an object of pity.
They were dismayed as their friendship with her ended, her hopeless sham of a marriage continued and they asked themselves over and over what they had done wrong.
Probably going to her as a group of three - that was the worst mistake. It was meant to show solidarity with her, but it looked like the prefects at school telling the form weakling to shape up. Besides, telling her that this affair was in the public domain and that the dogs in the streets knew about it - that was no help. It took whatever self-esteem she still had right away from her.
But would it have been better not to tell her for fear of destroying a friendship? Amazingly, given my intrusive personality, I have kept quiet when friends were being patronised, bullied or deceived. Sometimes I wish I had said something. I feel that I connived in the situation, contributed to their upset and, in some cases, their downfall.
All I have is the knowledge that I didn't add to their hurt and humiliation. On the debit side, however, maybe a phrase or a pointer might have changed things.
The non-interventionist would see such regret as evidence of a super ego who believed that she was some kind of earth mother. The interventionist, however, will understand that sometimes someone says the right word at the right time and that it's always worth the risk.
Most normal people are not permanently cast in one role or the other and they judge the situation as it turns up. As in this case.
My Advice
I'VE read your letter over and over and I think that you ARE jealous. There's nothing wrong with that. It doesn't mean that you are in love with Liz, just that you're jealous of her time and interest being elsewhere.
She's not coming on the holiday with you. He's there in the flat taking up time and attention when you want a chat with her. She's interested in his friends, his worries, his lack of funds. If I had a friend from whom I suddenly felt cut off like that then I too would be jealous.
But look at it this way. If she had a new boyfriend you would still be deprived of her company. Answer this honestly: if he were to be a nice fellow, not another walking disaster, and Liz seemed delighted with him, would you be happy for her then? Would you be glad, however ruefully, to see one of you getting a chance of a happy relationship?
If you can't say yes with hand on heart, then maybe you DON'T have her best interests at heart - you just want her to be on the same lifeboat as you.
But, if you say truthfully that it's her happiness you want, then let's look at the little rat. What does he give her that you don't?
Flattery for one thing. Maybe you never praised the beautiful rug she bought, possibly you didn't notice the expensive mesh streaks she got in her hair and the fact that new blouse was the same colour as her eyes. It doesn't make her into an eejit if she likes to be admired.
Excitement possibly. You and Liz by now are set in your ways. You don't have the daily drama of wondering where to live, where to go, where dinner is coming from. There's something maddening but exhilarating about young people and their unpredictable lives.
A sense of family, perhaps. Often in our teens and twenties we have little interest in what relation who is to whom in a big extended family and feel that choosing our own friends is everything. But later on we are often anxious to discover our roots and bond with people who come from the same stock. You say nothing about the ratnephew's parents, so I have to assume they are not on the scene.
Maybe she thinks that the friendship you and she have is just a jolly survival thing without deep feelings, brought about because you are roughly in the same position and have weathered so much.
SO WHAT WOULD I DO IN YOUR PLACE? Although it might be considered emotionally draining and something that only characters in dramatic fiction would do, I would sort of tell her all this. I think what you called "the few sharp words" were very ill advised - they will make her cleave even more to the ratnephew-cousin, whatever he is, and she will be on the way to the lawyer to sign her house over to him next week.
It's possible that your friendship has become stale and she wants more in her life. Maybe you are over-confident and self-sufficient and don't ever need anything like the rat. She might just want to give and you have never let that opportunity be open for her.
You might let this present holiday go because otherwise you're putting a gun to her head, making her choose between going with you or giving the rat a deposit for his car.
And, if you want her friendship, you don't want to force choices. You should never make the rat your enemy, but grit your teeth and join in whatever fun they seem to be having. Maybe you could even bore the rat out of it.
And, remember, we must keep open minds: he might not be a rat after all. He may just be a little penniless dote who will come and visit both Liz and yourself in the old peoples' home in 40 years time.
Your Advice
The bottom line here is this young man is "family". He may be all you think he is but Liz is obviously very happy that she has found somebody who is family on whom she can lavish some love and money - and it's as nice to be a giver as a receiver. You've said your piece, but if you still feel the need to enlarge on it just explain to Liz that you're concerned for her, but if she is happy you are happy for her. Say it and mean it! If this young man is stripping your friend of her money, don't let him strip her of your friendship too - and who knows maybe he will turn out to be genuinely fond of Liz and be there for her 50 years from now.
- Mary O'Neill, Co Monaghan
YES, you ARE jealous of this scrounger in Liz's life. She has doted on him, even leaving herself short for her holiday with you. I'd feel angry playing second fiddle to this sponging prat after what Liz and you have had together for many years.
Your heated words had no effect on her. This is needling you. Cut your losses. Tell Liz you'd like to holiday with someone else. That, until she sees the light, you'd rather not see HER. You'll soon find out how close you are to her. Perhaps the cosy twosome bored her. Let her decide and take it from there.
- Rose Mooney, Dublin 11
UNLESS you want to lose a friend keep your mouth shut. At the moment it pleases Liz to give away her money and even to make sacrifices. So let her enjoy her own generosity for however long it lasts.
Some day she might realise that she has been "taken for a fool" by this young cousin and, if that day comes, she really won't want the rest of the world to know. So, keep mum and pick up the pieces if and when it happens.
- J MacN, Dublin 9
SO often Maeve Binchy's Problem of the Month comes from "concerned friends or relatives" who see disaster lurking around the corner for a so-called friend, who is usually oblivious to any trouble. These interfering busy-bodies would be well advised to look into a mirror where they would see selfishness, jealousy and greed.
You, however, are probably the worst example I've encountered in these columns. You mention Liz's "long, unhappy love affair". Your own marriage has broken down. So, we get a picture of two women who know the pain of a broken heart and must know the longing for love and the desire to belong. Even for those blessed with their own children - but especially in the absence of one's own offspring - the relationship between uncles, aunts, nieces and nephews can be very close and rewarding. Uncles and aunts are allowed to spoil the children, are aware of but ignore their shortcomings, provide counselling and support in times of trouble, and generally complement the parental role.
Is Liz experiencing an aunt/nephew type relationship with this "scrounger and conman"? For you this appears to be a one-way relationship, but have you asked Liz about the contentment and fulfilment she enjoys in his company? Glib superficial compliments will not sustain such a relationship, so Liz must have more to share with her young cousin than her money. No one can see or judge the bonds that hold people together.
Why don't you join the two of them sometime, go for a drink or a meal with them? You might be surprised at how interesting or entertaining the young man is. You might be surprised to find that he genuinely cares for Liz. And, who knows, perhaps you'll start offering the young man advice, counselling, tales of "when we were young . . ." and you might even find yourself dipping into your own pocket to help him out!
Don't close your mind - open your heart!
- Paul Waldron, Ballinteer, Dublin 16
WHAT on earth is Liz? Does she not recognise this Johnnie-come-lately "cousin" for what he is. Why doesn't she give this consummate scrounger and opportunist the boot? Family, my foot! That sort of cousin shouldn't belong to any decent family. His behaviour is despicable. But seemingly he has got at Liz's Achilles' Heel by flattering her, by admiring her furniture, her clothes etc.
She can well do without such "admiration". What fools women can be! Let Liz rid herself once and for all of this shallow, scheming sponger and chancer. And the sooner the better.
- Vera Hughes, Moate, Co Westmeath
I THINK she should invent a "friend" or "relative" who has just recently moved into her area and who needs lots and lots of time, attention and money. Hopefully when the shoe is on the other foot, Liz will see right through her young cousin. Then, the two friends can have the holiday they rightfully deserve together.
- Annette Hopper, Beaumont, Dublin 9
WHAT I suggest you do is to try to make her recognise the true situation by a method of role translation. Put to her a scenario where you are in her situation: suggest to her that you pay for her holiday as she apparently can't now afford it and you feel she deserves it. Tell her that you would like to help out financially - meals out, clothes.
I suspect that she will adamantly refuse all such offers on the grounds that you shouldn't be expected to fund her luxuries and she would rather do without if she cannot afford them. Use the instance to tactfully point out that such "free-loading", which her ethics would not allow her to indulge in, represent precisely what this distant cousin is happy to do to her.
Through this she might see that she shouldn't allow anyone, particularly someone whom she doesn't know very well, to treat her in a way that she wouldn't dream of behaving herself - even to a close friend. With your support she might see beyond the surface plausibility to the true exploitation behind it.
- Margaret Sheehan, Aberdeen, Scotland
Next Month's Problem
Kitty is 24, lives with her parents and younger sisters. She writes: "I am in love with Tony and he with me. We want to do something which is not so out of the ordinary at the end of this century. We want to live together. But in my home this is just unthinkable.
I have generous kind parents just approaching their sixties. They have lived through all the changes of recent decades and been aware of them, but obviously they don't apply in our case. They just will not hear of it.
Every argument in the book has been brought up ". . . bad example to my sisters . . . if he really loved you he'd marry you . . . how do you expect us to condone this living in sin?" They have fairly conservative friends and relatives, but I think their attitude comes from genuine conviction rather than just what people will think.
Tony and I may well get married sometime, but we are not ready to marry yet and we have no intention of going through what would be for me a meaningless ceremony just for appearances.
I will go and live with Tony, but what I desperately need from your readers is help to do so without the whole house coming down around my ears. How can I hurt them least?