The posters of Milly still haunt this town, but not a single clue has yet been found

Eye witness: Another bereaved town tries to make sense of tragedy

The posters stuck on trees and railings throughout Walton-on-Thames all assume Milly is still alive. "Missing'', they say: "Do you have any information?'' Underneath this question is a smiling portrait of a girl whose age is given as 14, because it would have been her birthday in June. Yesterday, the people of her quiet riverside hometown in Surrey were adjusting to the news that she never made it. The search for a missing teenager, which had gone on for so long and produced so many false hopes, had become a murder inquiry.

''At least the family now have Milly back and can mourn properly,'' said Jemma Edwards, 24, a mother of two young children. She was sitting in the Travellers Café at Walton railway station, where Milly bought a bag of chips on 21 March and borrowed a friend's mobile to call her dad. At 4.05pm that day she began the mile-and-a-half walk down Station Road to her home, but would appear to have been abducted and killed on the way. "I just hope they find who did it,'' said Ms Edwards.

As she spoke police forensic experts were on their knees 25 miles away, carrying out a fingertip search of woodland near Fleet in Hampshire. Mushroom pickers had come across human remains in a shallow grave there on Wednesday, and dental records showed that the skull they found belonged to Amanda Dowler, now known to most of the country as Milly.

Yesterday police said that none of her possessions or clothing had been found at the scene, and their statement hinted that not all of her body had been found either. Metal barriers and a red-and-white police tape were used to seal off the country lane leading into Yateley Heath wood. A policewoman in a fluorescent jacket stood guard in front of a large red tent and three of the incident trailers that have become a familiar sight to reporters at Soham and Potters Bar during this long summer of loss and shared grief.

Four bouquets lay against the barriers, alongside a potted African violet, its vivid flowers in full bloom. Police appealed for "dog walkers, families, mountain bikers, horse riders and joggers'', who may have been in the woods on 21 March or the following day to come forward.

There were floral tributes too, outside Heathside School in Weybridge, from where Milly began what is now thought to have been her last journey. On Friday pupils and teachers had gathered to mark the six months since her disappearance, when the news came through that the remains were indeed hers. "Amanda was such a happy, fun-loving girl, who gave support to so many others,'' said a note from the principal, Glyn Willoughby, pinned up on the door of the empty school yesterday afternoon as parents and children continued to lay flowers around the roots of a tree at the entrance. "We will be looking at ideas for a suitable memorial in order that she will always be remembered.''

There were also bouquets by the roadside along which Milly walked from her school to the station, but this mound of tributes was not for her. The weather-worn cards spoke of a boy called Barnaby, presumably a victim of the traffic on Heath Road. Their presence was a sharp reminder of the many other children who die prematurely or go missing every day. But Milly Dowler's case caught the public imagination in an unusual way, not least because of the poignant video footage of her ironing and playing the saxophone. It was not because she was any different, but precisely because she was the same; an ordinary girl from a peaceful community, taken without warning. The crime statisticians say such tragedies are rare, and our obsession with them is out of proportion, but how many parents can have read or heard about Milly, or Holly and Jessica, and not feared for their own children?

"I feel exhausted by it all,'' said a man on the train from Weybridge to Walton, travelling with a young boy. "What is there to say now? You feel for the family when it happens, then you get on with life, of course you do, and when you are reminded of what has happened you hope she will turn up somehow. Then the hope goes.''

His sentiments were echoed by a mother who had brought her two sons to Walton station to lay flowers. The youngest, about Milly's age, was in tears. The boys were too upset to talk about it, she said. "They knew her from school and had hoped she would be found alive. We still can't believe this has happened.''

A few yards away was the car park where Milly may have stopped to talk to a driver. Sun-blinded security camera footage was enhanced by the FBI and looked to have provided an important lead for police, but so far it has come to nothing.

A large photograph of Milly had been stuck to a poster on a tree at the edge of the car park, above words written by a youthful hand in multicoloured felt tip: "We'll never forget you and your smile.'' A card entitled Forever Friends had been signed by someone called Cara: "I miss you too much, Milly, but I know some day I'll see you again, and I can't wait for that day to come.''

A lady in her fifties walked past with a small dog on a lead. She looked up at the poster and spoke out loud, to nobody in particular: "What is the world coming to?''