Very distant COUSIN

A wedding, viewed from the back aisle

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What should we call my cousin’s granddaughter? Her name is Kirsty, but what relation is she?

We had to look it up on Google, but apparently Kirsty is my first cousin twice removed. So it’s no wonder that we’re so far back in the church on her wedding day.

We are actually in the back row, which means that I have to put Mr Dear on his best behaviour. ‘You remember what happened when we were in the back row of the cinema at Star Wars?’ I whisper.

‘What do you mean? Nothing happened? Did it?’

‘It didn’t, so don’t go getting any ideas. The modern Church of England doesn’t approve of canoodling in the back row. Especially at weddings. It lowers the tone.’

‘Oh, give over,’ said Mr Dear.

It is a packed house. About three rows in front of us, there is a lady whose floral hat is so large that it could have won a prize at the Chelsea Flower Show. But I can just about make out my cousin Mary in the second row. She is wearing an elaborate fascinator that can probably pick up Sky Sports.

My own outfit is light and floral, which is just as well because it’s absolutely baking outside.