Ever wonder what happens to those people in our budget case studies after the media spotlight has moved on? asks Frank McNally.
In the first of an annual series, we track down the veterans of past Budget supplements, 10 years later, and find out what their lives are like now.
Brendan and Jill fared well in the 1996 budget. A double-income couple in their late 30s, with a medium-sized mortgage and a rental income from a cottage in Wicklow, they gained £912 a year from the tax changes introduced by Ruairi Quinn.
Although he had hoped for the abolition of residential property tax, Brendan - an accountant - described himself as "fairly happy" with the package, The gains were quickly wiped out, however, when a mid-life crisis prompted Brendan to join a crazed religious sect that required members to donate half their incomes. Jill tried to be amused by his claim to have achieved a 100 per cent saving of his soul. But her sense of humour vanished when she became pregnant and Brendan pointed out that his beliefs required her to deliver the baby in silence and without pain relief.
As their relationship came under strain, the couple neglected their Wicklow property which, unknown to them, was now being used for raves. With bitter irony, it was burned down the night before the 1997 budget, when RPT was dropped. Brendan and Jill now live separately.
Andrew was an unemployed 20-year-old in 1996. He benefited from the £3 increase in welfare payments, although this was partly offset by an increase in the price of cigarettes. His employment prospects appeared bleak until he completed a FÁS computer course in 1998 and set up a dot.com company in his parents' garage.
Despite having no products, no business plan, and making a loss of £15 in its first trading year, the company was quickly snapped up by a major financial institution for £10 million. After a short career as an international playboy, Andrew returned to Ireland in 2003, when he was arrested and charged with losing the run of himself. He now works as a barman.
Niamh and Liam were a cohabiting couple in 1996 with a nine-month-old baby and an apartment in Skerries. They gained £317 in the Budget and described themselves as "pleased enough". Unfortunately Niamh's mother, who had appeared to be coming to terms with their failure to get married, was mortified to see the family's shame paraded all over again in a newspaper. She renewed her campaign, making the couple's life such a misery that they finally relented and agreed to a no-frills wedding in 1998.
Niamh's annoyance at being forced into such a hollow charade was at first assuaged by the tax benefits. Because she had not returned to work, all her allowances went to Liam. But when Charlie McCreevy initiated his controversial tax individualisation policy, the relative benefits of being respectable disappeared and family tensions resurfaced. Niamh rarely rings her mother now.
Bob and Jackie were a married couple in their 40s with four children and an income of £19,475 from his job as a semi-skilled factory worker. In our 1996 supplement they expressed happiness that the car scrappage scheme had been extended, as they planned to change their 10-year-old Mazda soon. They were also pleased that there had been no increase in duty on alcohol, because they enjoyed "meeting their friends every Friday and Saturday for a couple of drinks".
What they didn't say was that Bob enjoyed meeting his friends for drinks every other night of the week as well. The friends were entirely optional, in fact. The truth was, he had no friends, if you didn't include the barman. His problem came to a head during the millennium celebrations, when his car was involved in an unofficial scrappage scheme involving an ESB pole. He gave up drink and, instead of the pub, started going to college at night. He now runs a small engineering company.
Orla was a single civil servant in her mid-20s. She had just been promoted to executive officer in the Department of Social Welfare and had bought her own apartment. Because it was in a designated area, she benefited from extra reliefs under Ruairi Quinn's budget and described herself as "extremely satisfied". Unfortunately she was lying, even to herself. Deep down, she was sick of being sensible and crushed by the mind-numbing conformity of her life. All she had ever wanted to do was dance.
And when she was chosen for the chorus line of Michael Flatley's show in 1999, she leapt at the chance, quitting her job and selling the apartment. It was while performing in Sydney that she met Scott, a male stripper, with whom she now runs a dance studio near Bondi Beach. She describes their sex life as "sensational".
Clive and Brenda were a professional couple in their 30s with two perfect children and a combined income of £105,000. They did well from the 1996 budget, and even better a year later when the abolition of RPT allowed them to trade upwards to a four-bedroom house in Ranelagh. They invested heavily in Eircom shares and sold at exactly the right time, making enough profit to buy a holiday home in Sligo.
Freed-up equity from their Dublin house has since allowed them to acquire properties in the south of France and Bulgaria. Clive had a brief health scare last year when he was diagnosed with a severe form of smugness. He now controls this with medication.