Authors Note: This is the first draft and is raw at the moment - when I have completed all Parts I will start the editing process. (All critiques welcome)   

February Franklyn was driving past his brother's house and his car came to an abrupt halt when he saw the lights on, the curtains open and general signs of life flicking about the property. He parked directly outside the small, tucked out of the away cottage and not knowing how to proceed, he used the key to open the door.

 His heart was pounding, his hands were shaking and he could feel small beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead. His heart came to a quick halt when he saw March sitting on the sofa a bottle of rum in his hand and  what appeared to be yesterday's shirt and tie.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Cried Feb

Charlie frowned.

"This is my house you arse, what are you doing here?"

Feb wiped his forehead, relieved. 

"So you've finally come back then? Said Feb

"No," Charlie paused. 

Feb just looked at him for a moment wondering what his brother was going to say next. 

Everything was still for a moment, Charlie felt as if he had been suspended in time and for the first time in a long time, the hands on his own personal clock had finally started to move. 

"I have realised something," said Charlie

"Oh please, do tell..." Feb smirked.

"We can never go back, but we can go home." 

February sat down next Charlie who passed him the rum. 

"Why do I get the feeling there's going to trouble?" 

Charlie just sat back and smiled. 

Two days later

Lavinia was out. 

Nowhere sinister, she had just popped to the supermarket for Anna, George took this as an opportune  moment to talk to his wife about the brown file on Marxby Manor given to him by Doctor Charlton. He had wanted to talk to her sooner but he daren't even open the file let alone acknowledge its existence and talk to Anna about it.

 He led Anna over to the kitchen table by her hand and sat her down slowly, and cautiously he produced the file, it was marked Marxby Manor- The Marxby's. Anna allowed her fingers run over the file and without talking to him or waiting for George she delved into the pages, the files first page was laid out in a series of bullet points almost like chapter titles. 

George and Anna had so far only looked at the title pages, nervous about what the rest of the file contained. 

- Marxby Manor 18th Century Estate, East Sussex. (Now Open to the public)

- The Marxby's a notable prominent family through the centuries. 

-The Marxby's moved away and closed the estate after a tragic incident in 1918 shortly before the end of World War I.

- The Incident involved three of their daughter four daughters.

Anna was about to turn over the page. 

"Are you sure you want to know?" Said George stopping her from turning the page.

"Yes, yes, I want to know," said Anna her voice slightly too loud.

George released his hand from hers and allowed her to swiftly turn the page.

Information about this event is not available online, although if I had dug for little longer I'm sure I could have found something, the Marxby family seem to be quite notorious.  However, I spoke to a Lady Jane Marxby via email she now runs Marxby Manor and the rest of the estate and she said she would be happy to have a face to face conversation regarding the incident. 

Call me for me details- Dr. M. Charlton.

Anna looked at George, curious he took the page from Anna reading it over and over again there was nothing on that page to decrypt what had happened to Lady Dolly, nothing at all. 

That evening Lavinia was writing. 

Unhappiness is easy to come by but happiness is something quite different. 

It flies by so fast that happiness is often more of a memory of a feeling than an actual feeling itself and more often than not it is replaced by the inevitable beige-ness of all things, the regular or the mundane. This, I'm sorry to say, could not be said for my own personal happiness it was not replaced by ordinary everyday life but filled by my own brand sorrow. 

It was the day I had been dreading.

 That morning felt like a dream I got ready surrounded by servants the pulled and curled  me, tightened and tied things until they decided I looked bridal enough, like a real lady. I felt like a was drowning in ivory lace and I wished for nothing more than to swim to safety, but I could not, it was dragging me down that dress, down that isle and towards a future that I wanted nothing more than to reject. 

"You look so pretty," said Fay.

She was the only one (other than the bustling servants) who I allowed in the room with me while I got ready. She was a constant reminder that my doing this, it had a real purpose. And although my free will had been taken from me it was not for nothing, in fact, if it brought Fay and Percy great happiness then my life was worth the sacrifice. 

I smiled at Fay, what I thought was a broad smile but I must have looked sad because she said, "are you scared?" 

"Yes Fay I am scared... only marry a man who really, truly loves you Fay, and who you love, otherwise I don't think there's much point to it," I said. 

Fay looked up at me again, her light curls falling over her face. 

"Why is Papa doing this to you?" Fay's eyes started to well up. 

I held tightly onto her shoulders. 

"Don't be angry with Papa, just remember what I told you about love okay?"

Fay nodded "I won't forget Dolly".

"Time to go My Ladies," said my Ladies Maid Beth. She held the door open for us momentarily then rushed forward to fluff and straighten my train. I stood at the top of the cascading staircase in the Manor, Papa was waiting for me at the bottom, I walked slowly, brides were supposed to walk slowly weren't they? So that's what I did, or tried to do, find that ethereal grace that I knew was lurking within me. 

"Ready?" 

"No Papa, I will never be ready for this" 

Deep down I know he heard me but he pretended he did not, that was so like Papa. 

~

I had always imagined myself getting myself getting married in that church, it's where my parents got married and my grandparents. It's where I sang in the choir as a child and when I was six prayed to God that my cat Sip wouldn't die (he did). I have never been particularly religious in fact, I'm not sure I believe in anything at all, and as a child I found I was using praying as more of a method for asking God for things (like Christmas presents or let the cat live) and realised that I perhaps wasn't using it for the method it was intended and by the time I was eight and stopped praying (and beliving in anything) altogether Father Christmas and the Tooth Fairy included.  

When I walked towards my old church where I had prayed and sung and on some level, wished to be married in one day, I felt a deep sense of other worldly mockery, like Dolphina, the little heathen was getting exactly what she deserved. Those feelings washed over me quickly as soon faced with an aisle to walk down and a very long lace dress and veil trailing behind me. 

It was seconds before I saw him, Will. 

It was the aisle, flowers, veil, first footstep, two three, Will.

Will. 

Will. 

Will. 

I was three steps up the aisle, the iconic moment every girl since the dawn of time as imagined herself doing whether we admit to ourselves or not, for good or bad, better or worse...

And there I was doing my very own walk, my three sisters walking behind me in order of age and just when I thought I would making it to the end, the other side, I saw Will his eyes were fixed on me, burning into me. I could feel them on my skin like he was really touching me, 'stop it!' I wanted to scream but I didn't, I just carried on walking, walking, walking. 

 I reached the alter. 

"We are gathered here today..." said the priest. 

I felt him stand, Will. 

My Will...

I turned my head a little. 

He was leaving. 

He had walked out. 

He was gone. 

Gone. Gone. Gone.

Hi Guys, thanks for reading-

The posting schedule for The Girl That Fell Out of The Ocean is Wednesday and Sundays!