They took my childhood away

Marie Hargreaves was sent to live in a convent, but instead of a loving home, she suffered years of abuse

- KARA O'NEILL, ANN CUSACK

As my dad opened the car door, I jumped into the back seat with a thrill of excitement. ‘Where are we going?’ I asked.

It was 1959, I was six, and I’d never been in a car before, which meant this must've been a special occasion.

‘You’re going on holiday, just you and Fred,’ Dad replied, and while I didn’t recognise the woman driving, I was too excited to question why Dad wasn’t coming with me and my big brother, Fred, then seven, beaming as he slammed the door behind me.

For the next hour, sitting beside Fred, I watched the town, then the countryside from the window. I felt sorry for my eight younger brothers and sisters, left at home while we’d been lucky enough to go on a trip.

When we finally stopped, I stared up at the large brick building with huge oak doors in front of me, as a woman helped us out. I spotted a nun walking towards us, and suddenly, I don't know why, I got the feeling something wasn’t right.

The excited butterflies in my tummy turned to dread as Fred was led in one direction, while I was shepherded away in another.

I could feel tears pricking my eyes, and despite trying to be brave, I couldn’t hold them back as I was taken into a bathroom, stripped of my clothes by the nun and washed down.

‘Why am I here?’ I sobbed.

‘You have to come to live in the convent, you’re going to be a nun,’ she replied.

Later, I found out she was called Sister Isobel O’Brien, and as far as I could work out, she was the person in charge.