The Legacy of Jane - Part One: If You Are Gone

Chapter Four

We have had to be standing here for a few minutes now. Dinah and I are here, standing in the lobby of the police station in front of the desk where a man was writing on an abundant amount of papers. Before going to the station, Dinah gave me a serious talk about controlling the way I speak in front of the officers, because she figures that they will be less likely to help us if we act ‘rude.’ We stand still, hoping that the man will look up to see us, with the only sound being the scratching of his pen. After what feels like eternity, I decide that I cannot take this anymore.

“Excuse me,” I greet, “My sister is wondering if you could help us.”

The officer looks up at Dinah, completely ignoring me, and oblivious to how long we had been standing there, “hello there, miss. How may I be of service?”

“I would like to file a missing persons’ report,” Dinah explains, “for Ann and John Evans.”

“That will be the job of the detectives,” he says, getting up from his desk, “They are in charge of those cases.”

After being led down a few hallways, we come to an office where another man sits at a desk, busy working. The other officer shut the door behind him as he walked out, closing the door behind him.

“Good afternoon miss,” He says to Dinah, “is there a problem?”

“Yes,” Dinah answers, “my name is Dinah Evans, and this is my sister, Jane. We would like to file a missing persons’ report on Ann and John Evans. They haven’t been seen since last night.”

“Could you describe them, please?” The man asks flatly. This all seems very routine to him, if I’m honest. I feel somewhat taken aback by the fact that the man never bothered to introduce himself.

“They are our parents,”  Dinah begins, “Our mother, Ann, is forty-one years old, and she has wavy auburn hair. She has green eyes, and I believe she is about five feet and three inches tall.”

The officer nods, as he writes down everything, completely unfazed.

“Our father, John,” Dinah continues, “Is forty-four years old. He has brown hair, and blue eyes, but I cannot quite remember his height.”

“Not to worry, miss,” He says, "I can go find your parents’ records, and we’ll go from there. If you could wait while I go get them.”

He leaves the room, and we sit down at a bench by the door. I tap on the bench nervously, as I stare at the clock on the wall, listening to the ticking sound it made. I take in my surroundings, though there is hardly much to look at. There is a bookshelf, and a window that looks over the street. We keep waiting, for what feels like years.

“I do hope I’ll be able to get to school on time to get Ruby,” I mumble to Dinah, “not if it keeps going at this rate.”

The second I finish, the man comes back into the room, as if he read my mind. He sits at his desk, looking impatient.

“I’m afraid I haven’t found any records of your parents.” He says, “We have access to records of every resident in Cardiff. If the people you speak of are not there, they either don’t live here or they do not exist.”

Dinah stands up, and gapes at the man in shock, “they most certainly exist sir, and they live here. We came here so you can help us find them because we fear that they are in grave danger.”

“Well I can’t find someone that is only in your imagination,” he laughs, “now why don’t you go home and calm down?”

“Pardon me, sir. But I hardly think anyone can stay calm when their parents are missing. I implore you to at least try to help us.” Dinah responds desperately.

The man stands up, with his piles of papers and straightening them before looking directly at me, “make sure to take care of this loony one, sweetheart. Tell her that making up stories to get attention is never lady-like.”

I look at him, stunned at what he had just said.

“I beg your pardon…” Dinah begins, before she can continue, I cut her off in a fit of rage.

“You listen to me, pal,” I snap, “my sister is not crazy! Every word she says is true. Do we have to drag you by your widows’ peak to help us? It looks like that’s what we’ll have to do, since you only want to sit, be useless, and squander in pity about your pathetic life!”

The officer stands there in pure shock. Dinah gapes at me, looking like she was going to explode. Finally, the man stands up straight, with possibly the angriest face I had ever seen.

“I’m going to have to ask you to take your leave,” he insists.

“Good!” I answer, “tell your boss that we’ll come back when he hires someone helpful for once!”

Before anyone can say anything, Dinah yanks me by the arm, and drags me toward the door, “thank you for your time, sir,” she says quickly.

We get outside, where Dinah pushes me down on a bench that happened to be in front of the station, and starts chewing me out.

“Are you CRAZY!?” she bellows.

“Apparently you are,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.

“Do you realise what you have done!?”

“I stood up for you!” I yell back, “did you see the way he treated us!?”

“Of course I saw! I was going to take care of it! You just lost us any chance of getting any help!” Dinah screeches.

“Dinah, it was little to none anyway!”

We trudge home, and it is only then that I realised the damage I had possibly caused. Usually I do not regret being assertive, but then I realise that what I said diminished any chance of the police ever helping us. What are we going to do now?

It looks like we’re on our own, and I’m terrified.