You’d think I’d have better things to be doing at the height of the GAA season, in the middle of July, than to be distracted in Church. But I was, and it made for a very interesting Sunday morning.  If only the Canon could have read my thoughts! First was the perfume. I thought my adenoids had packed up years ago, but my sense of smell was far from defective this day. Was it talc, was it Old Spice which Dooley sometimes splashes on, or was it some subtle scent from Chanel?  

I nudged herself when the congregation was saying the ‘Gloria’, and she said that it’s a new line from Calvin Klein, worn by men and women alike. That was new to me, and when I located what I thought was the source of the scent my eyes met those of a girl of about  fourteen, who suspected I guessed, if you know what I mean, and she flashed me a smile which said ‘my mother doesn’t know I found it on her dressing table’. 

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