My sister came back (Part One)

I grew up in a small former-mining town in the British Midlands - the kind of place which has gone from massively industrial to ghost-like in the past 30 years. I'd describe it as a happy childhood. My mum, two sisters and I (male) got by with her job as a clerical assistant to the town council. We didn't have much and the house we lived in was pretty run-down (looking back now), but we lived fairly close to the country and spent summer days playing in fields and picking blackberries.

I was 13 when this happened, making my older sister 15 and my younger sister nine. It was one of the those long summer days during the school holidays where we'd set out in the morning and walk along the side of the busy dual carriageway on our way to entertain ourselves in the fields. Playing tag, picking berries or just generally lounging around in the sun. Anyway, my big sister was always in charge of us. Making sure we held hands with my little sister when we crossed roads etc. It may seem strange to let three children/teenagers wander miles away for a day with no parental supervision, but this was the early 80s and small town England. People didn't fret about dangers befalling kids in the way they do today.

I've thought about this day thousands and thousands of times since, but i still don't have a particularly vivid memory of the events leading up to the disappearance. My memory seems to start, or come alive, at the moment when i started looking around, searching for my big sister, Claire. We had been in a field, just playing or hanging out and I was suddenly aware that she wasn't there anymore. Normally, i would just presume that she'd wandered somewhere nearby and that she'd wander back within a few minutes, but, i promise, i knew something was wrong almost instantly. My little sister Kerry obviously picked up on my panicky looks and started crying. I held her hand as we started walking the circumference of the field, calling her name as loud as we could until i was hoarse in the throat. Every time i yelled it with no reply, the lump in my throat became bigger and i felt a little bit sicker.

We were out there all day. Way past the time we'd agreed with mum to head back to the house. When we finally gave up and returned it was dark and mum looked furious. As she glared out of the front window at us returning mournfully along the garden path, she saw the look on my face and the tears streaming down my cheeks. Her angry glare turned to a look of pure anguish. I'll never, ever forget that look as long as i live. She knew something had gone terribly wrong.

My memories of the next few days (and the weeks that followed) involve lots of questioning by kindly female police officers and gruff, overweight detectives. I remember the neighbours all putting up poorly photocopied missing posters in their windows and newspaper reporters knocking on the door to ask if they could speak to mum. Although i was 13 and not completely naive (i was aware of 'Stranger Danger' from school) i couldn't relate it to what had happened to my big sis. In my mind, she'd just vanished of the face of the earth.

My mum cried a lot at this time. She'd come into mine and my sister's rooms at night and hug us and cry and cry and tell us Claire would be back and it'd all by OK. Kerry didn't seem to take it so badly at first (she was only nine, as i said) but looking back now she was always much quieter afterwards and became much more withdrawn.

We moved about six months after. Neighbours helped us lift our battered furniture and belongings into a van and gave us solemn goodbyes as we all sat up front with the driver. I have no idea why my mum chose Wales other than to sever any connection with where we'd lived before, but if i'm being honest, her choice was terrible. Another deprived former-mining town with high unemployment and decaying industrial buildings as a reminder of its former glories.

Anyway, we settled into life there as best we could. My mum didn't work now so to be honest I don't know what she did to support us. She just seemed to drink a lot and sit at the kitchen table staring out of the back window. It wasn't a happy time. I don't remember being close to Kerry either at this point. We'd lost something since Claire disappeared. She used to play with her dolls silently in her room and only come out for meals (which lacked regularity) or to go to the local school.

I kept myself to myself as well. The local boys viewed me as an outsider and our differences (football instead of rugby, a Brummie accent instead of a Welsh one) meant i was always alone. At school I always longed for the final bell to ring so i could be alone, wandering through the local woods or through fields.

It must have been October when it started. I was sleeping (we shared a room now, myself and my sister) and i was awoken by something pulling at my arm. I opened my eyes and tried to adjust them to the dark. Kerry was crouched at the side of the bed, both her tiny hands wrapped around my arm. "What do you want?" I asked gruffly, but covering up a feeling of worry (she had never done this before). "Claire's back," she whispered. "What?" I answered, genuinely not sure what she'd said. "Claire's back," again in the same voice. I sat upright, heart beating. She held tight onto my arm, still crouching next to my bed. "Claire. She's come back."

Part Two here