The scene is Thomas Street, at the Subiaco end. It is midnight on a Wednesday in August 1938. Two young fellows were walking home. We don’t know exactly where they’d been, but is easy to image they’d probably had a pint or two.

This particular Wednesday night was to prove an experience these two lads were never going to forget. They were walking on the right hand side of the road when a bicycle came towards them. So far, not very out of the ordinary.

Although the bike didn’t have any lights, it was, in fact, simply a young lady in a large overcoat pedalling her way home.

Pulling level with our heroes, she suddenly whipped open the fawn-coloured coat and revealed. Well. Everything. Or nothing, take your pick.

She was stark naked underneath and the two fellows could do nothing but stand there, jaws open. Or, in the words of one of them:

You can guess the shock I got when I saw she had nothing under it. We just gaped at her. Well, we couldn’t do anything else. And next minute she was gone. One thing I’m sure of is that she didn’t have anything at all on the front of her body.

She didn’t say a word, or laugh, or even look at the astounded observers. In any case, they don’t think she did. They weren’t paying too much attention to her face, it must be admitted.

After all, if a chap suddenly sees a girl’s nude body in front of him, he can’t remember for sure whether she’s laughing or not.

As she rode off into the distance, they did note her bare legs, but were unable to say for certain if she had shoes on.

By the time our brave Subiaco boys recovered, she was round the corner and lost to sight. Could they describe her? She was a brunette. That’s all they could remember. Definitely a brunette.

The media wondered if this cycling Godiva would encourage more Subiaco men to take midnight strolls. But not our gentlemen informers. No way, sir. They had no intention of spending any nights wandering round the suburb hoping that she would turn up again.

At least, that’s what they told the newspapers.