Some hosts and hostesses believe in making their guests, as they put it, 'sing for their supper'. I take the view that washing up, gardening, decorating, and other household chores are activities in which I participate only in my own home and even then with the greatest reluctance.

When your hosts regard you as part of a non-volunteer work force, getting yourself off the job sheet can take some doing.

The best escape from helping with the washing up I ever saw was at a supper party at the end of which our hostess announced: 'Let's clear up and then go and have another drink.' One of the women guests turned to the hostess's husband and said: 'I simply wouldn't dare interfere in Nancy's kitchen', and promptly absented herself to the drawing-room where she sat in front of the fire with a book.

'I'd offer to help with the washing up but I'm dreadfully clumsy' carries an implied threat that if you are press-ganged into helping, you'll get your revenge by breaking something. The excuse needs to be substantiated, nonetheless: 'I inherited two left feet from my father, I'm afraid', followed by an example of your own clumsiness - at someone else's expense, of course.

The best protection you have against manual labour is a bad back. 'My doctor has warned me that if I so much as lift a spade or push a wheelbarrow, I'll be flat on my back for six months in traction.'

The same bad back, of course, prohibits you from raising your right arms above your head holding a paintbrush. Just tell your friends, 'If I did myself an injury, I know you'd never forgive yourself.'

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