Trying to ignore Ronnie’s swearing, Sister Mary Paul sat the family at the end of the table – unfortunately right next to Sybil, who looked like she had been introduced to a viper. Throwing down her napkin, she flung back her chair and glared at Sister Mary Paul.

‘You seriously don’t think that I am going to eat with filth like this?’ she snapped and, grabbing her very expensive handbag, she stalked out of the room.

‘Don’t worry, little lad,’ Irene indulged the naughty boy. ‘She’s just a snob, we’d much rather have your company than Mrs Hoi Poloi.’

Further encouraged by Irene’s wink and a few indulgent smiles from around the table, Ronnie got stuck into his breakfast, and his sister quickly followed suit. Spreading creamy butter, delivered daily from the nearby Mary Vale Farm, which supplied the Home with plenty of dairy, plus vegetables and fruit in season and sometimes meat, Ronnie sunk his teeth into the hunk of fresh warm bread. Little Sally did the same in between earnestly telling the girl next door to her that she had nits, which immediately made every resident in the room shuffle their chair further away from the infected children. Seeing how uncomfortable their presence was making the diners, Rosie urged her children to finish their breakfast, something she was, in fact, struggling to do herself.

‘I could eat an ’orse, Mother!’ Ronnie protested, as he lathered butter on to another slice of bread.

‘Leave some for others,’ his mother said sharply.

At which point Ada came breezing into the dining room. ‘Morning,’ she called in her happy uplifting voice. ‘How are you all today?’

Before her mother could open her mouth to speak, Sally said, ‘It’s nice having an indoor privy.’

Which brought on another round of laughter from the entertained residents. Seeing Rosie squirming with embarrassment, Ada suggested that the children should play in the garden while she examined Rosie in private.

Up in her room, Sybil was seething. She simply could not have been more appalled or outraged. It was bad enough being at Mary Vale as it was; she didn’t like the residents and they didn’t like her. Fair enough, she could live with that, especially if her transferral plan came to fruition, but in the meantime was she seriously expected to cohabit with a bunch of savages? It was a downright bloody insult to a woman of her standing – how dare the wretched Home even contemplate such a scenario!

‘There’s nothing for it, I’ll have to leave sooner rather than later,’ Sybil declared. ‘In the meantime, I shall complain to Matron about this unacceptable lowering of standards.’

When Sybil swanned into Matron’s office, Sister Ann – normally the kindest person on earth – felt her hackles rise. She resented Sybil’s tone and was shocked by her outright snobbery.