‘There’s no choice but to keep a lookout,’ Sister Theresa said grimly. ‘And catch whoever it is red-handed.’

Within a few days both Theresa and Sister Mary Paul knew exactly who the culprits were. Taking it in turns, they had monitored movements in the dining room before every meal-time. Separately they both spotted Ronnie and Sally entering the dining room alone, and, after checking that nobody was watching them, sneaking up to the serving table to grab food – bread, butter, cheese, a cake, sandwiches, whatever was available – stuffing it into their school-bags before slipping out of the room.

‘We should have guessed,’ Sister Mary Paul sighed, after they had shared their evidence.

‘We had to give them the benefit of the doubt,’ Theresa replied.

Frustrated at how the situation had escalated, Sister Mary Paul cried, ‘Why didn’t they just ask rather than steal the stuff?’

Theresa shrugged. ‘They probably thought we would refuse them – after all, we have other mouths to feed three times a day at Mary Vale,’ she pointed out.

‘So they just took it instead,’ Sister Mary Paul said. ‘You know we’ll have to report them to Matron.’ Wearily shaking her head, she continued. ‘A verbal warning from me or you isn’t going to have much of an impact on those two wilful kiddies.’

‘If only Ada were still working here,’ Sister Theresa said wistfully. ‘She could handle Ronnie and Sally better than anybody.’

‘Sadly, she isn’t,’ Sister Mary Paul said. ‘Now don’t go telling Nurse Mann,’ she quickly added. ‘She’ll come down on them like a ton of bricks.’

When Matron called the children and their mother into her office with Sister Mary Paul and Theresa, Ronnie went ballistic when the thefts were brought up.

‘I didn’t take nuffink!’ he exploded.

Matron gave the mutinous little boy a long cold look. ‘Then please explain how Sister Mary Paul and Sister Theresa saw you both on separate occasions stealing food out of the dining room.’

‘There’s no point in lying, Ronnie,’ Sister Theresa started gently. ‘I saw you several times.’

Shocked rigid, Rosie turned on her children. ‘Is this true?’ she cried.

At which point Sally burst into tears. ‘Ronnie made me do it,’ she bawled. ‘He’s been selling stuff at school during play-time.’

Rosie slumped into the nearest chair. ‘Ronnie, how could you? And Sally, you too? Stealing from the Home, it’s a disgrace,’ she cried.

‘I needed money for marbles,’ Ronnie blurted out. ‘You never give us anything,’ he grumbled.

‘What money have I got?’ his mother protested.

‘That’s what you always bloody say, I haven’t got any money,’ he cruelly mocked her. ‘Well, I’m sick of being broke and I’m sick of being the poor kid who’s always in trouble.’