Charlotte found herself staring at the sight blast from the last that stood in front of her.

"Grandma?" The word fell out of Charlotte's mouth like something she couldn't swallow.

White and wild hair concealed by a neat black headscarf, only a few wispy strands flying free. She pushed her heavy framed glasses further up her nose, and looked down at the girl on the bench.

Now everything made sense.

No wonder Dad was annoyed. There weren't many things in life more annoying that the Granny from hell. Here today gone tomorrow, never around long enough to get to know her, and never kept in touch. Charlotte found herself questioning everything she did and everything she said, what she was doing gatecrashing Bethany's funeral was just another reason she didn't trust her.

"Oh darling, how many times do I have to tell you, it's Araminta."

The older woman rolled her eyes, "I mean I'm far too young to be anyone's granny, especially to three strapping girls verging on the edge of the adventure that's womanhood. Enjoy it while you can, my girl. Soon you'll be old, wrinkly and all the hot guys will be far too young."

"Two," Charlotte corrected, "two girls. We're not three anymore."

Deep lines gradually appeared across the elderly lady's face, and Charlotte felt as if she could see her thoughts.

"You, Annabelle, and Clementine. Three."

Here we go. Nothing had changed.

Charlotte sighed, and shook her head. Years away living on a barge in the middle of nowhere and still she hadn't changed one ounce.

"Why, grandma, why are you always like this?"

"Like what?"

"So odd with Bethany?"

"I'm not,"

"Yes you are, Grandma!"

At first it started with a drip, then, the more Araminta tried to defend her actions and try and worm her way out of her pathetic behaviour, the more Charlotte fought back. 'I forgot.' That was her favourite excuse, followed by others that were just as petty and just as pathetic.

"You don't send her presents for Christmas or her birthday. You say it slipped your mind but then you never forget my birthday, or Bella's, Clem's, Will's or Sebs. When you talk about how many grandchildren you've got you always say three granddaughters and two grandsons. She's always left out. Why? And don't say you forget or it slipped your mind, because that's shit! It's shit and it's wrong and sometimes you don't even mention her name. What is it you call her..."

Araminta sighed, and stood for a moment. Charlotte noticed how her attention remained fixed upon the old church door where inside Bethany's funeral continued.

"I'd better be going." She said, and quickly turned to leave.

Oh no!

Charlotte hadn't finished with her, and the moment Araminta tried to leave, she stood from the bench and followed. For a woman of nearly eighty years old Araminta McKenzie-Smyth was very nimble on her feet from all the ballroom dancing she did every week and from her constant training for the London marathon. The quicker she walked, the more effort Charlotte had to put in in order to keep up with her.

They'd walked in silence for a good ten minutes, with Charlotte huffing and puffing to keep with her old granny who still wore stiletto heeled boots. Outside the village store, Charlotte watched as Araminta entered. She thought about heading back to the castle and forgetting her grandma even existed, but the determination inside her wasn't going to give up that easily, and instead of heading home there and then, she hovered outside and waited for her. No one could spend that long to buy a packet of cigarettes and a newspaper, could they?

Charlotte kept a close eye on the time, and at exactly ten past, Amarmita emerged, plastic bag in hand, that contained a single newspaper and a packet of cigarettes poking out of the top pocket of her leather jacket.

"The other one."

Araminta stopped in her tracks and turned to look at Charlotte.
"Pardon?"

"The other one," Charlotte repeated, "Bella, Charlotte, Clementine, and the other one. The names of your granddaughters."

"Look, Darling, it's really best if you take it up with your father."

Araminta's pace quickened from a normal walking pace into more of a quick stroll. Charlotte's heart slammed against the walls of her chest, her breathing became rapid as she soon found herself jogging to keep up with her, but Granny was faster.

"No! Why the hell should I? I mean it's not Dad who forgot her birthday and then gave a whole tonne of bullshit reasons why, is it? I can't stand this horrible atmosphere all the time. I dread Christmas. And you know why?"

"I thought you loved Christmas darling? All the presents and lights and the snow. Oh my Charlotta, you've loved the snow ever since you were tiny."

"No, grandma. I hated it, and birthdays. I'd be there with Bella and our cousins opening our presents from you, and Bethany didn't have anything. Not ever a naff old handknitted jumper
or some tatty ornament." Charlotte's voice dropped to a whimper, like a puppy desperate for food. There wasn't a single chance that she was going to drop this any time soon until, like the hungry dog, she got what she craved.  "Please, tell me what your problem was with my sister?"

"She wasn't your sister, Charlotte. Ok?"

The colour rapidly began to drain from Charlotte's face, and for a moment she felt sick. She reached forward, and grabbed grandma's arm to steady herself.
"What? No. I, I. No. I don't believe you."

"I'm sorry, Charlotte, but it's true."

It was as if Araminta was reading aloud an article in a trashy magazine or one of those newspapers that were full to bursting with celebrity gossip. Only it wasn't about the glamour models or which royal was throwing the most filth at another to sell copies of their book. It was Charlotte's own family, or so she thought. How no one had the decency to tell her the truth, and the one day that was supposed to be about Bethany, and only Bethany, was beginning to turn into another one of Araminta's dramatic performances. How many BAFTAs did she need?

"She was just a girl your parents stupidly thought they needed in their life when they struggled having a sibling for Bella." Araminta continued, "Look, if you don't believe me, I'll prove it."

"How?"

"Follow me. We'll go back to Castle Stone and I'll get the documents, her birth certificate and the adoption one. Then we can all move on."

The two walked in silence through the village, a small narrow lane close to its only bus stop would take them back towards the castle and away from the gossips and the curtain twitchers who watched their every move.

Thick trees concealed the entrance, their fallen leaves littered its narrow path. Stepping inside felt like vanishing into thin air, like a tunnel separating the castle from the village. Following it for an hour or so, the two would arrive outside at the castle. Over half an hour into the trek, Charlotte's legs began to ache, and winced every step she took, as she cursed the wellington boots her father forced her to wear, under her breath.

"Are we there yet?" She complained. Charlotte knew many ways to get from the castle to the village and vice versa, but this was a new one, a secret one and that forced worrying thoughts through her already confused mind.

"Come on, you want to know everything, don't you? You want to know why your parents moved you here, don't you?"

Err. Hold on...

Charlotte stopped dead in her tracks. She reached her arm forward and grabbed the neared tree she could to take a moment's rest.
"No. Enough."

Araminta rolled her eyes, "oh come on, you're not telling me you believed all that crap about a lottery win, do you?"

Charlotte looked around and noticed a small wooden bench at the side of the path. She sat down to have a rest and to catch her breath. Araminta sat beside her.

"I thought it was odd." She confessed, "it was so sudden. I mean I can't even remember Mum buying a ticket, and she always got one from Sainsburys." Charlotte paused for a moment, "we went shopping after she picked me up from riding." And then it hit her, right between the eyes causing as much distress as possible, "Mum didn't buy a lottery ticket."

"Don't be too hard on your parents, I mean they didn't completely lie."

"So they tell me they've won the lottery, and then, what? I'm not allowed to be pissed off with them when I realise they made the whole fucking thing up? How else am I supposed to feel?"

Araminta took a deep breath, "it was me who won the lottery, not your mother. Sally needed to move and I gave her the money to buy the castle."

"I don't get it. Why did we have to go?"

"I thought that was obvious? She got herself into a right old muddle. Snorting stuff up her nose and doing whatever she could to pay for it. She wasn't always staying overnight at a friend's house, you know. I couldn't stand to see the family I love go to pot, that I gave your parents the money."

The more Araminta began to speak, the more confused Charlotte became.

"Ok." Said Charlotte, "So you gave Mum and Dad money to move. But why did we have to go as quickly as we did? It doesn't make sense."

"I assumed it was something to do your father's job. But I know it was serious."

Charlotte still felt as if something was missing, like a vital piece in a confusing jigsaw puzzle. She could see the picture, but nothing added up. She knew there must have been a really strong reason as to why the family moved away so suddenly. And for her grandma to say it was just something to do with her father's job, it didn't make sense. Like many excuses that fell from Araminta's lips, Charlotte began to think this too was a load of rubbish.

A strange feeling came over her, like a tight knot in the pit of her stomach. As she breathed it tightened, and the tighter it came the more sick she began to feel. Memories that didn't seem important at the time, began to re-emerge.  Charlotte pulled her hair into a high ponytail, and she began to rummage through her bag where she retrieved her phone. She sat for a moment and flicked through it, as she struggled to find something on social media. It didn't take her long.

A picture appeared on her phone, it was one taken a year earlier at Bethany's last birthday. Several teenage girls stood around a ginormous cake, Bethany in the middle, leant forward ready to blow out the seventeen candles that flowed brightly in the dimly lit room.

Charlotte remembered the day as if it were yesterday, mainly because it was the last proper time she shared with her friends. Everyone who was anyone attended, from college girls to a few of their older cousin Seb's uni friends. Altogether there must have been at least fifty guests, including Bethany's friend, Lois Blatherby.

Lois was the most popular girl at school, loved by the boys, often loathed by the girls. For some reason, however, Bethany remained her most loyal best friend from the day they met all those years ago in nursery; the two were inseparable. Boyfriends came and went, but nothing would separate them. And then it happened, she vanished. Charlotte remembered seeing her the day before getting into a large white BMW that was parked outside the school gates one afternoon. Lois was never seen again.

Then things seemed to change, Bethany's upset and insecurities grew. She'd have panic attacks out of nowhere, so bad sometimes she'd faint. Her weight dropped rapidly, as her eating became more and more unhealthy. Charlotte couldn't help but notice the little amount she'd seen her eat, or how many times she'd hear her throw up in the night.

Charlotte began to put two and two together. What happened to Lois must have triggered the chain of events.

"She's dead, isn't she?"

Araminta fell silent. The colour drained from her already chalky complexion and for a moment, her mouth dropped open. That said everything.

Charlotte couldn't help but notice as Araminta wiped a single tear out of her eye as she placed her hand on her granddaughter's knee and leant a little closer to her. "They found her the night you left. But there was nothing anyone could do. I believe she'd been dead for a while."

"How did she die?"

"Trust me my girl, you're better off not knowing. Remember her as she was."

Something still didn't make sense. Although Castle Stone was an ancient castle, it still had a few modern additions, such as central heating and electricity.

"I never saw any of this on tv."

"Your parents arranged to have the television and the internet turned off before you arrived to stop Bethany freaking out. As far as she knew, Lois moved away."

Charlotte took a deep breath. The more she thought back to everything that happened recently, the more it gradually began to make sense. Ever since the family arrived at Castle Stone all those weeks ago, there had been an issue with the Wi-Fi and the television still wasn't working. The only time Charlotte found herself able to use the internet in her room was only for a few minutes now and again, and it remained terribly slow.

For a few moments she sat, deep in thought, just watching the world go by and the clouds in the sky. The colours that were once peaceful and light gradually darkened, and a deep sound of rumbling echoed through the trees. A single drop of rain fell from the sky.

"Come on, Charlotta, I think it's time we went." Said Araminta. "Now, do you still want proof about Bethany?"

Charlotte nodded, how else could she sort out everything that went on inside her mind if she wasn't prepared to face the truth. Whatever the truth had in store, she had to know, however horrible it turned out to be.

The sky became darker, as it shifted from light grey to a much murkier, more threatening shade, and the drops of cold precipitation landed its heavy blows down on the moist soil.

The walk back to Castle Stone was uncomfortable to say the least. Nature pounded its heavy drums sending the loud clashes and rumbles of thunder through the evergreen trees. The harsh wind blew its frosty wind down around the highlands, casting sharp blades of rainwater down Charlotte's clothes and drenching her hair in a chilling shower.  The shape of lightning flashed in the darkness, as another rumble of thunder trembled through the trees.

But the more wet Charlotte became she knew she had no choice but to keep going. The need for answers ran through her mind and her veins and nothing would stop her from getting what she needed.

Not long now, and then she'd be home.