LAST Saturday after dinner, four of us decided to go for a drink.

Everywhere in Glasgow was packed, but eventually I managed to find us a seat in a cocktail bar while my son-in-law Tony beckoned the waiter over for some drinks.

We couldn't help but notice that a couple of women at the next table, who looked to be in their seventies, were having a whale of a time laughing and barely stopping for breath before downing another mouthful of their colourful cocktails.

As the bar got busier and busier, the ladies got closer and closer until eventually they were sharing our table. Putting her drink down one of them interrupted.

"Hi there. I'm Margaret and this is Jean. Sorry to impose but we were getting squashed over there."

"No bother," I politely replied.

"We couldn't help but overhear you talking about tarot cards," continued Margaret. "Jean and I are psychics."

"Really?" enquired Tony, immediately giving them his full attention and seizing the opportunity for a wind up. "Come and tell us more."

Both ladies smiled and squeezed in on either side of a now rather crushed Tony. "Go on then," he challenged. "Give me a reading."

"Let me see," Margaret said, peering into Tony's face before eventually announcing, "You are a joiner."

Tony shook his head. "Nope."

"Naw, Margaret," Jean interrupted while resting her hand on Tony's leg. "Naw, he's definitely a businessman."

"Well, I suppose you could say that," Tony agreed, whilst removing Jean's hand from his knee.

"I've got the vibe too," claimed Tony. "I do a fair bit of psychic reading," he explained as he clasped his forehead, getting into character. "I get messages from the dead all the time."

I spluttered my cocktail over the table at Tony's talent for telling tales, but just as Margaret was about to give Tony another inaccurate telepathic message her mobile chimed and she swished it open to read a text message.

Unknown to her, the letters of the text were so large that Jenna, sitting on the chair next to her, could read every word.

'Hi. Auntie M. Look forward to seeing you tomorrow. The party is at 55 ***** Rd, Castlemilk. 2pm. Bring Jean along too. Kirsty xxx.'

While Margaret was whispering to Jean the good news that she too was invited to the party, Jenna filled Tony in on the valuable information she had just read.

Ordering a cocktail for the women Tony just couldn't help himself.

"As I said," he reminded them, "I'm psychic myself. I can see spirits all around me," he said winking at Jenna and nodding at the array of cocktails on the table.

"Why don't you give Margaret a reading?" said Jean, volunteering her friend.

Tony took a swig of beer and waited on the spirits to offer a sign when suddenly he blurted out: "You've got quite a good life at the moment Margaret."

"I suppose I have," she nodded.

"Oh yes, you have. You've a great social life. In fact ..." Tony paused for effect. "You have a very busy day ahead tomorrow."

"Really?" gasped Margaret whilst Jean shook her head.

"Oh yes. I can see you all dressed up, hair done and carrying a bottle of wine."

Tony paused for a moment to let this revelation sink in before announcing: " You are going to a party tomorrow."

"That's right!" Margaret squealed.

Tony continued: "Is it in a ... let me think ... a ... em ... is it in a castle?"

"Not quite," answered a now engrossed Margaret as she sat on the edge of her seat.

"Why do I keep getting the word castle? Castle?" repeated Tony gazing into the unknown. "Castle."

Jean couldn't help herself. "It's in Castlemilk," she shrieked excitedly. "The party is in Castlemilk."

"Of course it is," Tony solemnly nodded in agreement.

By now, Jenna and I had tissues masking our face as the tears rolled down our cheeks, but Margaret and Jean were oblivious as their full concentration was on Tony the Psychic.

"Whit else?" Margaret asked impatiently.

"I'm getting the letter K," Tony offered whilst looking towards the ceiling for aspiration. "Yes, definitely K."

"No way!" screamed Jean.

"What are you saying?" Tony the Psychic whispered to his imaginary spirits. "What's that? ... Kelly ... was that Kelly?"

Jean's mouth was open and Margaret was gripping tightly on to Tony's arm.

Finally Tony nodded. "Nope. It's Kirsty. Definitely Kirsty."

"OMG!" puffed Margaret, on the verge of hyper-ventilating. "That's amazing. Tony, you're never going to believe this. Me and Jean have just been invited to a party tomorrow in Castlemilk," gasped Margaret. "By my niece - who's called Kirsty!"

"You're even better than us," admitted Jean. "Have you got a business card?"

"Sorry, I'm fully booked," replied Tony the Psychic. "Enjoy your party tomorrow ladies."

And, as we left, he winked: "The spirits also tell me there is a very good chance you won't leave the party alone!"

We could only imagine.