As Diana woke to the sound of the milkman delivering their daily pints, hooves from the handsome bay horse hammering a tattoo across the cobbled street, she noticed that the room next to her was eerily silent. Iris occupied that bedroom, and as she was late to rise of a morning, Diana could usually hear her snoring as she got herself ready for the day. However, today there was no noise at all. Slipping on her house-coat, Diana padded across the hallway to her sister’s room and gave the door a sharp rap. Silence. Worrying that Iris had got hold of some dreadful, potent home-brewed vodka and was passed out (or worse), Diana turned the handle and let herself into the room. Iris’ bed was suspiciously neat and tidy, and there were no discarded stockings or film-star magazines or cigarettes littering the floor. Instead, there was simply a tatty paperback on the bedside table (Diana rolled her eyes at the folded page instead of a bookmark) and a pillow had hastily been stuffed into the bed so as to look like a sleeping person. Realising that her sister’s bed had not been slept in that night, Diana dashed down the hallway to her mother’s room and hammered on the door.

“Mother!”

“Hmm?” Mrs Walker yawned. “What is it, dear?”

“Iris has been out all night!” Diana cried, real fear for her sister’s safety creeping into her mind for the first time. Her mother opened the door, curls in disarray all around her careworn face. Her eyes wide with apprehension, she looked at her eldest daughter in shock. “What do you mean, ‘out all night’?” Mrs Walker answered worriedly. Iris had been known to go to some wild parties, but she had always been home before morning until now! Diana looked truly frightened now. “Mother, I just checked her room when I didn’t hear her in there this morning! Her bed has not been slept in, and she’s stuffed a pillow into her bed so she clearly intended for this to happen! That wicked girl!” Diana exclaimed angrily as she cursed her sister for being such an ungrateful wretch.

“Diana!” her mother cried out in shock. “Your sister is missing! This is no time for bitterness or jealousy – we must find her. I shall contact the police; you look in her room to see if there are any clues to her whereabouts.” Glancing at the fierce look on her daughter’s face, Mrs Walker cried “Don’t for one moment think that I am not angry with Iris! She is still my daughter and your sister, however, and I would forget all this anger in a moment if she would only come home safe and sound!” Mrs Walker cut herself off sharply, before bursting into violent tears. Diana looked shamefaced, and put her arms around her mother. “There there, Mother: I am sure that we will find Iris! I am just so cross with the silly goose for putting us through such hurt, time and again! I shall always love her for she is my sister, even if I occasionally want to box her ears!” Mrs Walker sniffed and wiped her eyes on the corner of her robe, before hugging Diana and going back into her room. “I shall get dressed,” she said, “and then I shall contact Sergeant Davis at the police station. We will find that girl!”

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