Father Galvin always came to the Crossans’ parties and he always brought the same gift: a bag of Lucky Numbers and a box of Maltesers. He liked to drink a small Paddy with a dash of water and no ice. (Tom tried to remember everybody’s favourite drink. This made it more likely that they’d slip him fifty pence – or even a pound.) As priests went, Father Galvin was okay. His Masses were short, and he handed out hardly any penance, just a Hail Mary or two and a warning to behave yourself in future. The year before, there’d been a visiting mission and the priest had given Tom two decades of the rosary. Two decades! Tom wouldn’t have minded but he hadn’t confessed all of his sins. He’d left out the part about looking at his dad’s dirty magazines.

The two might have stayed talking to the priest, only they saw Noel O’Grady coming. Father of the dreaded brothers, Mr O’Grady was a total bore. Tom’s dad said he always looked like he was one fried breakfast away from a heart attack.

They were at the top of the hill, laying out the fertiliser bag they’d taken from Conor’s shed, when a familiar voice rose up behind them.

‘Are we still on for tonight, boys?’

It was Tess Fortune, smothered in a massive grey overcoat, a pink woolly hat pulled low over her green eyes. Tess was even thinner than Conor, so thin that one of the lads at school had called her a Cambodian. Without missing a beat, she’d given him a dirty look and said, ‘It’s Kampuchea now, you ignoramus.’ Tess was tough. She had to be. She had no dad, and people gossiped about her mam, saying she spent too much time in Pilkington’s Lounge. Her mam was younger than most parents. Oh, and she was beautiful. Not as beautiful, mind, as Tess’s best friend, Nina Minogue, who was the best-looking girl in Kilmitten.

‘Yep, we’re definitely on,’ said Tom, as he glanced around for Nina. No sign. What if she didn’t like the snow and decided to stay at home tonight? He’d bet his life that the Minogues’ house was good and warm. He couldn’t imagine Nina seeing her breath when she got up in the morning or having to wipe the ice from the bedroom window with the sleeve of her pyjamas. Nina’s father was a doctor, so he probably knew all about the importance of central heating. Of course, the Minogues were loaded, which must help with heating and such.

‘You will be able to get away, won’t you?’ continued Tess. ‘I mean, won’t your mam and dad want you to take people’s coats and fetch drinks and that?’