Busting a Wimple - The Depths of Depravity

My mother, God rest her soul, who died in 1997, used to tell stories of her schoolgirlhood at the Marist Convent in Paignton, Devon. She left in 1925.

The nuns, most of whom were Irish, were kind, tried to be strict, and displayed an innocence now long-lost.

One, a cousin of Michael Collins, sold 'pretty little green shamrock badges' to the girls as Christmas presents for their friends and families. My mother sent one to a protestant aunt, who contacted the police. Apparently they were IRA badges.

The Mother Superior, also the headmistress, enraged by my mother's giggling in chapel, broke off praying to deliver the following prophesy (as my mother said, sadly unfulfilled):

"Hermine! You're a bold, bold girl. Hah! I can see you in ten years time, lying on a couch, surrounded by admirers, and eating chocolates!"