‘If I could only get rid of them,’ she wished every time she laid eyes on the children.

Then one afternoon fate unexpectedly provided Sybil with the means to do so. Walking into the dining room in search of her magazine, she found Ronnie and Sally peering hungrily at the sandwiches and scones on the serving table.

‘What are you two doing in here?’ she snapped.

‘What’s it to you?’ cheeky Ronnie snapped back.

‘Tea’s not served till five o’clock,’ Sybil pointed out.

‘So we can admire it, can’t we?’ he replied.

Resisting the urge to hit the lippy child, Sybil turned to Sally, who cringed beneath her steely glare.

‘We’re just hungry,’ the little girl muttered nervously.

It was at that precise moment that Sybil had a wicked thought; why not encourage them to eat before the other residents turned up for their meals; it certainly wouldn’t go down very well with the holier than thou nuns, and it wouldn’t impress the residents either.

Mustering up a smile, Sybil turned to Sally. ‘What does it matter if you pop in a few minutes before the others? Don’t worry about it – take a few sandwiches and a scone too – nobody will notice,’ she urged as she piled up two plates. ‘Now run upstairs and enjoy your tea before anybody sees you.’

Wide-eyed Sally gratefully snatched the plate and ran out of the door, while Ronnie shoved more sandwiches in each of his trouser pockets before bolting after his sister.

Sybil smiled to herself. ‘That should put the cat among the pigeons,’ she smirked.

Though hardly anybody noticed the disappearance of a few sandwiches and scones at tea-time, the following morning found Sister Mary Paul baffled, not to mention irritated, when she noticed that food she had laid out for breakfast had mysteriously disappeared.

‘I swear I put four fresh loaves out this morning,’ she told Sister Theresa, who was helping her to lay the table.

‘There are only three now,’ Sister Theresa pointed out.

When the same thing happened the very next day, both nuns were dumbfounded. This time it was Theresa who expressed her dismay. ‘I know for certain, I put four loaves out just now,’ she insisted.

Mary Paul nodded in agreement. ‘I saw you walk out of the kitchen with them on a tray.’

Both nuns stared at each other.

‘Who on earth is taking the food?’ Sister Theresa asked.

‘Somebody who thinks they’re not getting enough in the first place,’ Mary Paul answered crossly.

But, as the days progressed, steadily more and more food began to disappear: coconut biscuits, cheese pasties, potato cakes, corned-beef fritters, and every morning bread from the breakfast table.

‘This is just ridiculous!’ cried Mary Paul in sheer frustration. ‘There’s not enough food to go round as it is. We simply can’t allow stealing under our roof!’