Ada was shocked by the vitriol in Sybil’s voice, but she answered steadily. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ Their conversation got no further, as Ronnie and Sally, fresh back from school, came tearing into sight, yelling. Waving an imaginary rifle in the air, Ronnie was hollering, ‘BANG! BANG! You’re dead.’

‘ARGHHH!’ shrieked Sally at the top of her voice, as she fell in a fake slump at Sybil’s feet.

Outraged, Sybil leapt up. ‘This place is second only to a lunatic asylum,’ she cried.

Storming away, she almost bumped into Rosie, who was struggling to catch up with her children.

‘Have you no control over your brats?’ Sybil demanded.

Huffing and puffing for breath, Rosie spluttered, ‘I’m so sorry … I couldn’t keep up with ’em.’

‘Oh, really?’ Sybil retorted as her eyes raked up and down Rosie’s skinny frame and threadbare clothes. ‘You do surprise me.’

Ronnie made a rude sign after Sybil’s upright departing figure. ‘Bloody snooty cow!’

Concerned about Rosie’s physical frailty, Ada sprang indignantly from the bench and addressed the wayward boy. ‘That’s enough, Ronnie!’ she cried. ‘We don’t behave like that at Mary Vale – I suggest you stick to our rules as long as you are here.’

Seeing that Rosie was about to start making apologies on her son’s behalf, Ada intervened. ‘I’m sorry, but I’m talking to Ronnie, Rosie. If he continues in this rude way, I will have no option but to take him to see the Reverend Mother, who won’t tolerate his bad behaviour.’

Ronnie visibly paled under the sheen of dirt that always seemed to be smeared across his scrawny face; it seemed like the only person he was afraid of was the senior nun at the convent.

‘Now run off and play while I have a word with your mum,’ Ada told the naughty Ronnie and his embarrassed little sister. ‘And make sure you wash your hands before tea-time,’ she called after them.

Clearly weary, Rosie slumped on to the bench that Ada had just vacated. ‘We always seem to be in trouble,’ she said, with tears in her eyes.

Ada quickly sat down again. ‘It’s much better than when you first arrived here,’ she pointed out.

‘It’s forever two steps forwards and one back,’ Rosie sighed. ‘I don’t know why any of the residents put up with us.’

‘They’re kind women,’ Ada started.

‘Apart from one,’ Rosie interrupted. ‘That woman, Sybil Harwood, has got it in for me and my kids – you can see it every time she lays eyes on them.’ She shrugged. ‘If looks could kill.’

‘The rest of the residents are fairly understanding,’ Ada continued diplomatically. ‘And things are much better since the children started attending school.’

‘Yes, until they get back here again and start playing their noisy games,’ Rosie answered realistically. ‘We should never have come in the first place.’