We were lucky to get tickets. There’s FIERCE demand for these First Holy Communions now. It’s worse than the Toy Show. We only got the slots because Deirdre’s husband’s mother isn’t well. Otherwise she’d have to go because we’d never hear the end of it. It’s all politics. That was what I said to Deirdre when she married into that family.

“You’ll need to be like Boutros Boutros Ghali with the Tarrants,” I said. “They’d take offence before the words were out of your mouth.”

“I had good training with your side,” said she. Too sharp she is.

Such a crowd. Himself was squeezed in beside me. The first words out of his mouth were: “It’s been a while since a few of these lads were at mass by the looks of things.”

I really can’t bring him anywhere. He doesn’t seem to know how to whisper.

Even though we were early, we were still at the very back. We could barely see little Ava, our grandchild, Deirdre’s youngest. But we were seen alright, by Nuala Costigan. She made a bee-line for me down the aisle. We had to shove in for her.

“Great day isn’t it Ann?”

“’Tis, Mrs Costigan.”

“Isn’t Ava in my little grandchild Caine’s class? That’s him up there.”

She didn’t need to point him out. I would have spotted Caine a mile off. The hair was spiked and the suit was ... oh, it was no one’s business.

“He’s all style,” I said biting my lip.

“Oh stop. Karen was telling me that they spent €300 on the suit. Ralph Lauren she said.”

“I don’t know him.” I said pretending. I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. “Is he in beside the Tesco?”

“Now Ann, you know well who Ralph Lauren is. Gearoid and Karen say they won’t put the children in nothing but designer gear. Money no object Ann. You could say extravagant. But you know what I think? They might as well spend it. I’m sure the good Lord himself would intend them to enjoy the fruits of their labour.”

There wasn’t much labour put into Gearoid’s accident. Unless you count the work the solicitor did for him. Falling over after a rake of pints in the Branfeakel Arms and getting (they say anyway) €40,000 for emotional distress and trauma. But, of course, I didn’t say that. I’ll offer it up.

“And he’ll only get the one wear out of it, but I don’t care.”

But she does care. She cares very much. Nothing Nuala Costigan says is by the way. It all has a point.

“And his uncle Brian is putting on a huge spread for us all. Did I tell you Brian is back now – heading up the computer thing. He’s bringing us all up to Mount Shalom Spa for afternoon tea. No expense spared. It’s great when they turn out well, isn’t it Ann? I always say you feel you’ve done your job when the children do well for themselves.”

Deirdre must have spotted me in distress because she came over to us.

“How are you Mrs Costigan. Isn’t Caine a scream with his designer gear? I was only saying to Karen there isn’t it great she’s bucking the trend?”

“What do you mean bucking the trend?”

“I’ve a friend in Dublin and she was telling me that in all the private schools the new fashion now for the Communion is blinging down, understated and classy. Fair play to Karen. She’s going her own way.”

Well that shut Mrs Costigan up.

Maybe our side did train Deirdre well after all.