Farewell to a columnist and socialite par excellence

IT WAS the kind of funeral Terry Keane would have approved of. An elegant church in leafy south Dublin, ladies with perfectly co-ordinated handbag and shoes, wonderfully refined music and a celebrant who doubles as an expert on Caravaggio.

Now if only they’d served cocktails.

Alas, there were no black-tie waiters and silver trays in the Church of St Joseph in Glasthule yesterday but there were abundant memories of the parties Terry would inspire, host, attend, electrify, scandalise and chronicle before emerging the morning after reinvigorated by copious cups of tea to begin all over again.