‘It was about two years ago while I was shopping at Allders department store in Bromley. I noticed this woman staring at me and shaking as if she’d seen a ghost. I asked if she was all right, but she didn’t answer. I was about to walk away when she asked me how I got the mark on my face.’ Annette pointed to a three-inch scar on her left cheek. ‘I told her a nun hit me with a bamboo cane and she looked close to tears. I’d never seen Sister Julie in casual clothes, so at first it didn’t register who she was. When she asked me if I was Annette Bell, it came to me in a flash. We hugged each other and cried our eyes out. In many ways, finding each other has been a blessing for both of us. Our long talks and lots of tears have helped us come to terms with what happened in our lives.’

Boon was about to ask Annette a question when he heard one of the babies crying.

Becky stood up. ‘We’d best be going and let you see to your children.’

‘There’s just a couple of other questions I’d like to ask before we go,’ Boon said.

‘If she carries on crying, she’ll wake the other one up. I’ll be back in a second.’ Annette dashed up the stairs and returned cradling one of the babies.

Becky’s eyes lit up. ‘Ah, she’s beautiful. What’s her name?’

‘Davina, after my brother. Her sister is called Julie.’

‘Can I hold her?’ Becky asked.

Annette handed Davina to her and then sat down opposite Boon.

‘Were there any non-religious people who worked at the convent?’ he asked.

‘Not that I recall. Most things in the convent were done by the nuns. You’d be surprised how skilled they were at fixing and making things. We had to do chores every day, keeping the place clean, helping with the laundry, tending the gardens and vegetable patches. Mucking out the pig pens was the worst punishment – you had to grab the shit with your bare hands and put it into a bucket.’

‘That’s gross,’ Becky said.

‘Were there any priests who worked there?’ Boon asked.

‘There was one who’d come in and read us Aesop’s Fables in class. Sometimes the bishop would visit . . . we’d be given clean clothes and inspected by Mother Superior before he arrived.’

‘Can you remember the priest’s or bishop’s names?’

‘We were only allowed to call the bishop “Your Excellency”, if he deigned to speak to us. We called the priest Father Bob. He was a nice man, everyone liked him. He used to give us all a boiled sweet in class, hold his finger to his mouth and say we must not tell Mother Superior, or he’d get in trouble.’