Rosie didn’t even attempt to hold back the tears she had managed to keep under control in the presence of the children.

‘It was so, so sad,’ she wailed. ‘I knew in my heart it was never a good pregnancy – like I’ve said before, everything that could have gone wrong went wrong – but I always prayed the little mite would survive. But for all Sister Ada’s efforts and care it just slipped away …’

By this time Sybil was weeping too. ‘I wish it could have been otherwise,’ she sobbed.

Still overwhelmed by Sybil’s heroism and feeling bad that she had upset her too, Rosie squeezed Sybil’s hand hard. ‘I’ll be forever indebted to you, my friend; at least my two other children are safe, thanks to you.’

Sybil wriggled uncomfortably; this simply couldn’t go on, she told herself; it was shameful to lie basking in Rosie’s praise, all the time knowing what damage she had done to this poor woman in the first place. The time had come to unburden her terrible secret and tell the truth, even if it meant losing the only friend she had in Mary Vale. Gulping nervously, Sybil cautiously started the conversation she had been dreading for weeks.

‘Rosie, my actions are not quite as selfless as they would appear,’ she blurted out. ‘You see, it was because of me and the lies I told the police that your children were forced to leave Mary Vale.’

Looking thunderstruck, Rosie gazed at Sybil uncomprehendingly. ‘What do you mean?’ she spluttered.

Having got this far, Sybil had no choice now but to keep on going. ‘I was the one who stole from the residents, I was the one who left the stuff in your family room, I was the one who set your children up to look like thieves,’ she explained.

Gasping as if she had been grievously wounded, Rosie looked at Sybil in total disbelief. ‘YOU?’

Flame-faced with shame, Sybil nodded.

‘Why?’ Rosie gasped. ‘Why would you do an evil, wicked thing like that?’

Sybil’s answer was brutally honest. ‘Sheer vindictiveness. I thought they were badly behaved and decided, quite arrogantly, that I’d get rid of them.’

‘I knew you couldn’t stand the sight of us,’ Rosie blurted out. ‘If looks could have killed, we would have been dead when we first set foot in the Home. I knew we were too poor for your liking, too common.’

With the knowledge of hindsight, Sybil murmured, ‘More fool me – I know better now.’

‘Bit late for that,’ Rosie exclaimed.