After hearing the conversation, Sybil quickly picked up her expensive leather handbag, which she always held in the crook of her arm, and left the room.

‘Thursday it is, then,’ she thought with a satisfied smile.

On Thursday morning Sybil watched Ronnie and Sally leave for Grange, and a short time later she observed Rosie heading off to the station to catch the train to Lancaster. Once Sybil heard Rosie’s train pulling away and saw a plume of black smoke cloud the sky, she grabbed her shopping bag and the piece of paper on which she had scribbled down the names of the residents and their room numbers.

After making sure the coast was clear, Sybil slipped upstairs to one of the resident’s rooms, which she rummaged through. After going through a set of drawers, she removed a rusty tin containing some coins from a battered old handbag. On a lower floor, she took some cheap earrings from a little glass dish on the dressing table, and from another room she filched a gilt powder-compact case and lipstick. Hurrying back to her own room, Sybil hid the stolen goods in her suitcase, which she kept locked inside the wardrobe. With her heart beating as loud as a drum, Sybil checked her watch: nearly eleven. She would have to complete her tasks by four o’clock, when Ronnie and Sally got home, and for that matter Rosie too; for now, she could take a breather.

While the residents were at lunch, Sybil faked tummy ache and took to her room. In the short space of time available to her, Sybil sneaked into several empty bedrooms, removing a few more trinkets that she added to her stash. Her final bit of filching centred around the kitchen, which meant she had to hide in the corridor until she saw Sister Mary Paul bustle out and she could slip into the store cupboard. Squinting as her eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, Sybil froze as she suddenly heard footsteps in the corridor that stopped right outside the store cupboard. When she saw the door handle turning, sweat broke out on Sybil’s brow – what would she say when the door swung open? Mercifully she heard Dora calling from the other end of the corridor. ‘Sister Theresa, have you a minute to lend me a hand?’

The door handle was released as the young nun called back: ‘Yes, of course, Dora.’

Sybil slumped with relief as she heard the voices of the two women recede; then, quickly recovering, she reached up to a shelf and removed several silver teaspoons and a small silver cream-and-sugar set. Slipping the spoons into her pockets and the rest into her handbag, Sybil sneaked out of the store cupboard and fled to her room.