"Me daughter has gone missing, since this morning." Ben said. "She's not come 'ome fer her tea, and she's not with any relatives. She was upset and ran away this mornin'... I'm worried she may have run away from home."

"Would ye like to file a missing person's report?" Bert repeated the question he had asked earlier to another concerned parent.

"Aye," Ben replied. For all he knew Anne had gotten on the train and was out somewhere on the moors again or in a strange city.

Bert got the big book and returned to the counter.

"Can ye describe 'er?" Bert asked, pen at the ready.

"She's fifteen, about this high, plump, red hair, she'd be wearin' a long black dress and white apron, like a maid..." Ben described.

Bert repeated the description to make sure it was accurate. It would be circulated to the beat constables as they returned to the station for their meal breaks and at the turnover of the next shifts.

"...wearing the uniform of a domestic. Right. I have to ask this, sir, but is she in a vulnerable state?"

"Goodness no. She's fifteen," Ben snapped at that idea. He couldn't imagine Anne... getting into that kind of trouble. Then again, he hadn't imagined Alice would.

"I'm sorry, Mister Ward. We 'ave to ask these questions to provide our constables with as much information as possible. If we need to contact you, what is your address?"

Ben nodded quietly. He gave the address. At least they'd be looking for her. "Thank you, sir."

"Now, Mister Ward, does she have any friends in the town she might be with?"