It was also a drama of press intrusion and a meeting of two very different sections of society.
The Channel 4 documentary last Thursday showed what it was like to have a missing child - the futile attempts to carry on as normal, the eeriness of the absent girl's bedroom, the dog sulking under the table - and also the constant pressure to reveal more to an insatiable pack of newshounds.

And when stories were published in the national papers, not only did the family have missing Shannon to worry about, they also found themselves subject to the hurtful comments that always rain down upon inhabitants of council estates when placed under the appraising eyes of London journalists.
Watching this slick metropolitan elite descend upon a Dewsbury estate, we were forced to conclude that no, we are not all middle class now; we live worlds apart.
The family and their friends were painfully aware of how they were perceived.
"Just because we're not all wearing Prada and Gucci," a friend of Karen's said, "and twirling £1,000 handbags - so what?"

Did it make a difference to how the story was covered? Some people seemed to think so.
A family friend speculated that Shannon's case was unlikely to enjoy the same degree of coverage as that of Madeline McCann, whose Richard Branson-funded campaign was the longest running front page story since World War Two.
(Then again, being sleekly middle-class did nothing to protect the McCanns from allegations - since withdrawn - that they were involved in their daughter's disappearance. The press might penalise you with its snobbery if you're working class, but it won't exempt you from malicious speculation just because you're not.)

If your child goes missing, you'd better be sure you brush your hair and wear makeup in the days that follow because, make no mistake, it will be noticed if you don't.
As if you don't have enough to worry about, you have to suddenly become your own public relations officer, constantly making decisions about how much to give away and to whom.

We saw Karen and Craig tormented by the publication of an interview with Shannon's grandmother, June Matthews, in which she made allegations about Craig.
The couple began to write their own press release making counter-accusations. It must have felt good to seize some control of the situation at last, to hit back.
But the couple were right to follow the advice of the police's family liaison officer and send the lurking reporter away without his exclusive.
Journalists came across badly in this documentary. But I felt for that reporter. I know how it feels to have to call the newsdesk with bad news.
It occurred to me that there was another parallel documentary to be made - rather like those war films that depict a battle from both sides - about the reporters huddling in the cold, nervously rivalrous, holding their moral qualms at bay with self-justifying rationalisations and worrying that at any moment something huge was going to happen and they'd somehow miss it.

But the most moving scenes put it all into perspective - the snatched shots of Karen Matthews in unguarded moments when the potential horrific reality dawned on her - and the recurring picture of Shannon herself, smiling with the doomed trust of the innocent.