‘We managed to trace a close friend of my parents. Through her, I discovered David and I had lived in a big house in Sussex. When we were three, our father was seriously assaulted during a break-in and died of his injuries some months later. As a result, our mother had a breakdown and started drinking heavily. She confided in the local priest about her depression and drinking.’ Annette’s brow furrowed. ‘He rewarded her plea for help by informing the authorities and having us taken away,’ she said with bitterness in her voice.
‘My God, that’s awful,’ Becky exclaimed. ‘I thought the Church was supposed to help people in need!’
‘Were you reunited with your mother?’ Boon asked, moved by her painful story.
She shook her head. ‘No. Thanks to the priest, she ended up in Graylingwell asylum. She committed suicide when David and I were nine. My mother’s friend found out we were at the convent and wrote a letter to the Mother Superior, but we were never told about it.’
‘What possible reason could she have for not telling you?’ Becky asked.
‘In the eyes of the Catholic Church, suicide is a mortal sin, and she was an evil cow.’
‘Do you mind if I ask you some questions about your time at the Sisters of Mercy orphanage?’ Boon asked.
Annette let out a cynical laugh. ‘We used to call some of them the Sisters Without Mercy.’
‘Why was that?’
She looked sombre. ‘Because the Mother Superior and her minions were heartless and brutal in the way they treated us. Although I was only five, I’ll never forget my first day there.’
‘What happened?’ Becky asked, apprehensively.
Annette sat motionless, her lips trembling as she recalled the event. ‘We were in the dining room having breakfast when we were made to stand in a line. Mother Superior said she was going to show us what happens to girls and boys who misbehave. The door opened and four girls, not much older than me, were marched in by Sister Margaret who whacked them across the back of the legs with a bamboo cane if they walked too slow. At first, I thought it strange as they were all wearing white headscarves and carrying silver bowls. They were then made to stand in front of us and remove their headscarves. All their hair had been shaved off and it was in the silver bowls they held in front of them. Mother Superior produced a big wooden ladle from up her sleeve then proceeded to walk behind the girls and whack each of them hard on the head. I could see they were terrified, but they didn’t dare cry in case they got hit again.’
Becky gasped, putting her hand over her mouth. ‘What did she do to the boys?’ she asked.
Annette licked her dry lips and clasped her hands together. ‘Sister Margaret marched the boys in and paraded them round the room. All of them were wrapped in bedsheets.’ She paused and took a deep breath.
‘Why on earth where they made to wear bedsheets?’ Boon asked.
‘Because they had wet themselves during the night. It wasn’t until they were made to pull the sheets from their heads that I saw David was one of the boys. He started to cry when he saw me. I took a step forward, then one of the elder girls tugged me back. She whispered I’d make it worse for him if I did anything.’ Annette’s sadness was turning to anger. ‘Mother Superior then gave them a whack with the ladle as well.’
Boon shook his head in disgust. ‘In my few years as a police officer, I’ve seen some terrible things but the thought that anyone, especially nuns, could do that to children...’
‘Having all your hair cut off or being made to wear a wet sheet was nothing compared with being made to sit in the chapel crypt in the dark, on your own. Mother Superior would say it was so we could “reflect on our sins in the presence of the Lord”.’
‘Were there dead bodies down there?’ Becky asked, wide-eyed.
‘Just the man who founded the convent. He was in a stone sarcophagus. Occasionally a nun who died would be in a coffin awaiting burial, but that was rare. It was terrifying and so cold down there you’d sit on the floor with your knees under your chin, pulling your dress down and your jumper sleeves over your hands to try and keep warm. Thankfully, I only ever got sent down there once. I never wanted it to happen to me again, so I made sure I always did as I was told.’
The thought of being alone in the crypt sent a shiver through Becky. ‘Do you think there might be the bodies of abused children buried in the grounds of the convent?’
Annette shrugged. ‘I don’t remember anyone suddenly disappearing while I was there, but that’s not to say a child hasn’t been killed since the convent opened.’
Boon knew it was a possibility but doubted it. ‘I’m really sorry for making you recall such traumatic events, Annette. Yours, David’s, and every child’s life in the convent must have been a living nightmare,’ he said.
‘I was never so happy as when I left that place, but it’s stayed with me ever since and robbed me of growing up with my brother. There was a constant atmosphere of fear, but it wasn’t all bad. Some nuns were kind and even lied to protect us. Although they didn’t argue with Mother Superior about her strict rules, they didn’t enforce them with an iron rod like some of her cronies.’
‘They should all be ashamed for doing nothing about it,’ Becky said fiercely.
‘Believe me, I know they were. Those that did challenge Mother Superior quickly found themselves transferred to another convent, usually in some godforsaken country, or so I was told.’
‘How many children lived at the convent?’ Becky asked.
‘About thirty... there were slightly more girls than boys.’
‘Have you kept in contact with any of them?’
‘No. A couple of girls were moved to the same new orphanage as me. But I lost contact with them when I left.’
‘How many nuns were there?’ Boon asked.
‘It varied, but generally I’d say about twelve, including Mother Superior.’
‘Can you remember the Mother Superior or any of the nuns’ names?’
‘I haven’t a clue what her name was,’ she said. ‘Everyone just called her Mother Superior. Sister Margaret was her deputy, and she was even more sadistic. She always took great delight in beating and humiliating us.’
‘Do you know her surname?’
Annette shook her head. ‘All the nuns were just called Sister and we used their Christian names for those that let us.’ She paused for thought. ‘There was Sister Suzanne, Sister Julie, Sister Jane and Sister Melissa. I remember them mostly because they were the nicer ones. It’s hard to recall the others.’
‘Can you remember the Christian names of any other nuns beginning with an “M”?’ Boon asked.
Annette thought with her eyes closed, then opened them. ‘There was Sister Maria, at least two Sister Marys, and I think a Sister Madeline. I’m sorry, but that’s all I can remember just now. Do you think the nun who was murdered might be one of them?’
‘It’s possible. We believe our victim was between eighteen and thirty and had the initials MB. If I read the names out, could you give me a rough age of each of them?’
‘Sorry, I was ten years old... I couldn’t even begin to guess how old they were back then. Mother Superior and Sister Margaret looked the oldest. Sister Maria and Sister Suzanne were definitely younger.’
‘I know this is a long shot, but do you know if any of them still live or work in the area?’
Annette sighed. ‘Sister Julie does, though she’s no longer a nun. We speak on the phone and meet up quite regularly, actually. I didn’t want to give you her details until I spoke to her personally and made sure it was OK.’