By three PM on the Saturday afternoon of the day that Ellie and her brother had gone missing, The Old Chapel had two marked police units sat on the shingle drive forecourt next to the Harrisons’ Peugeot. Just over five hours had passed since Carol had awoken to a deathly silent building, just over five hours since she’d rushed from room to room, her anxiety building with each step and finding nothing but more silence and emptiness. Now, as she sat in a state of semi-vacantness on the sofa upon which she’d awoken, she could see from the internal balcony of the mezzanine level, down to and out of the front door which lay open. There, glinting in the sun and catching her eye was the yellow and blue fluorescent battenburging of the Police Ford Focus estate parked closest to the door. Carol pla
