Watching the English

AND FINALLY... THE LONG GOODBYE RULE

We started this grooming-talk chapter with greeting-talk, so it is appropriate to conclude with parting-talk. I wish I could end on a positive note and say that the English are rather better at partings than we are at greetings, but the truth is that our leave-takings tend to be every bit as awkward, embarrassed and incompetent as our introductions. Again, no-one has a clear idea of what to do or say, resulting in the same aborted handshakes, clumsy cheek-bumping and half-finished sentences as the greeting process. The only difference is that while introductions tend to be hurried - scrambled through in an effort to get the awkwardness over with as quickly as possible - partings, as if to compensate, are often tediously prolonged.

The initial stage of the parting process is often, deceptively, an unseemly rush, as no-one wants to be the last to leave, for fear of 'outstaying their welcome' (a serious breach of the privacy rules). Thus, as soon as one person, couple or family stands up and starts making apologetic noises about traffic, baby-sitters, or the lateness of the hour, everyone else immediately looks at their watch, with exclamations of surprise, jumps to their feet and starts hunting for coats and bags and saying preliminary goodbyes. (Although 'Pleased to meet you' is problematic as a greeting, it is acceptable to say 'It was nice to meet you' at this point, if you are parting from people to whom you have recently been introduced - even if you have exchanged no more than a few mumbled greetings.) If you are visiting an English home, be warned that you should allow a good ten minutes - and it could well be fifteen or even twenty - from these initial goodbyes to your final departure.

There is an old Dudley Moore piano-sketch - a spoof on the more flamboyant, self-indulgent, romantic composers - in which he plays a piece that keeps sounding as though it has ended (da, da, DUM), but then continues with a trill leading to another dramatic 'ending' (diddley, diddley, dum, DUM, DA-DUM), followed by yet more 'final'-sounding chords (DA, DA-DUM) then more, and so on. This sketch has always reminded me of a typical group of English people attempting to say goodbye to each other. Just when you think that the last farewell has been accomplished, someone always revives the proceedings with yet another 'Well, see you soon, then...', which prompts a further chorus of 'Oh, yes, we must, er, goodbye...', 'Goodbye', 'Thanks again', 'Lovely time', 'Oh, nothing, thank you', 'Well, goodbye, then...', 'Yes, must be off - traffic, er...' 'Don't stand there getting cold, now!', 'No, fine, really...', 'Well, goodbye...' Then someone will say, 'You must come round to us next...' or 'So, I'll email you tomorrow, then...' and the final chords will begin again.

Those leaving are desperate to get away, and those hovering in the doorway are dying to shut the door on them, but it would be impolite to give any hint of such feelings, so everyone must make a great show of being reluctant to part. Even when the final, final, final goodbyes have been said, and everyone is loaded into the car, a window is often wound down to allow a few more parting words. As the leavers drive off, hands may be held to ears with thumbs and little fingers extended in a phone-shape, promising further communication. It is then customary for both parties to wave lingering, non-verbal goodbyes to each other until the car is out of sight. When the long-goodbye ordeal is over, we all heave an exhausted sigh of relief.

As often as not, we then immediately start grumbling about the very people from whom, a moment earlier, we could apparently hardly bear to tear ourselves. 'God, I thought they were never going to go!' 'The Joneses are very nice and all that, but she does go on a bit...' Even when we have thoroughly enjoyed the gathering, our appreciative comments following the long goodbye will be mixed with moans about how late it is, how tired we are, how much in need of a cup of tea/strong drink - and how nice it is to have the place to ourselves again (or to be going home to our own bed).

And yet, if for any reason the long goodbye has been cut short, we feel uncomfortable, dissatisfied - and either guilty, if we have committed the breach of the rule, or somewhat resentful, if the other parties have been a bit hasty in their farewells. We may not be explicitly conscious of the fact that a rule has been broken, but we feel a vague sense of incompleteness; we know that somehow the goodbyes have not been said 'properly'. To prevent such malaise, English children are indoctrinated in the etiquette of the long-goodbye ritual from an early age: 'Say goodbye to Granny, now.' 'And what do we say? We say thank you Granny!' 'And say goodbye to Auntie Jane.' 'No, say goodbye NICELY!' 'And say bye-bye to Pickles.' 'We're leaving now, so say goodbye again.' 'Come on now, wave, wave bye-bye!'17

The English often refer to this ritual not as 'saying goodbye' but as 'saying our goodbyes', as in 'I can't come to the station, so we'll say our goodbyes here'. I discussed this with an American visitor, who said, 'You know, the first time I heard that expression, I didn't really register the plural - or I guess I thought it meant you said one each or something. Now I know it means a LOT of goodbyes'.