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Marie-Ange, serious contender for the title of busiest woman in the village, rang up the other day to tell us about a film to be shown a couple of days later. On no account were we to miss it, she said. It was a truly remarkable record of the vill

ON THE face of it, it was a very flattering invitation. They wanted me to go and read them an extract from one of my own books.

 "We're a ladies' cultural association," the organiser said. "Once a year we hold evenings d

THE AMIABLE William actually managed the top hat, white tie and tails straight out of the Cole Porter song, not to mention evening cape, white silk scarf, silver-mounted stick and - wait for it - spats, for which the French is demi-guêtr

My husband has a foolproof method for ascertaining just how French our children are becoming. Every Sunday morning as we tuck into our boiled eggs he asks them two questions:

What is the best football team in the world and was Napoleon a g

IT'S THAT time again, the annual lunch given by the commune for all the seniors (and the senioras and senioritas, of course) in the village. We first qualified on grounds of age if not of decrepitude two years ago, so we went along with one or two

My stepson Hugo will be 13 next year and has been offered a place at Eton. There are two reasons why he may not be going. One, it costs a fortune. Two, almost more crucially, his chances of getting into university afterwards may be diminished if he goes to a public school, however illustrious its history.


It?s a funny thing about communication companies, but whenever you want to get hold of somebody, there?s nobody to talk to. Just recently I?ve been very keen to get hold of somebody at France Telecom. And shake them. Then strangle them, slowly.