The first night was never the easiest, and Charlotte knew this better than most. Her first experience in the hospital as a young girl was frightening, to say the least. All the strange sights and smells of clinical disinfectant clung to the air and her clothes. The sadness, and longing to be with her family, were something that would stay with her for a very long time. Charlotte was not that little girl any longer, she was fifteen and in a few short years she'd be a young woman, old enough to spend one night away from her familiar surroundings.

This was different. Everything about this was different. She didn't have her parents, that goes without saying, but before as a younger girl, she managed to make a friend or two in the other patients on her ward.

There was Poppy-Rose Jones, and Abigail's Wentworth, both became her little gang during her several months stay. They were the same age as Charlotte and their beds were on the same ward. Poppy-Rose was on the right, and Abigail Wentworth was on the left, with Charlotte herself taking up the middle bed. They'd have midnight feasts and chat most of the night, with an angry Matron telling them to shut up and go to sleep, for they kept up most of the other girls who were much more under the weather than they were. Poppy-Rose, who was a year or two younger than Charlotte, and Abigail. She slept with a couple of Barbies in her bed at night and always insisted on a bright pink Barbie duvet cover during the frosty winter months. She always wore several shades of pink from her hair bands that brightened up her whitish-blonde hair, to the socks that warmed her feet.

Abigail was older, not by much, but by a month or two. During her short stay due to chronic asthma, her mother started to have an affair with one of the rather fit male nurses who was on her ward. It led to Mr and Mrs Wentworth divorcing, and her father moving away from the family home. It turned out he, like his wife, also had a wandering eye. Abigail was the life and soul of any ward, with a head full of curls and a smile to light up any room. As they lay in their beds at night they'd plan the adventures they'd embark on when all three of them were fit and well enough to leave the hospital, and they had enough money saved up. Charlotte always dreamt of becoming an Olympic rider, with Poppy-Rose becoming a vet, and Abigail a famous singer or actress. They'd go to America, Canada, Australia and Spain, Italy and Jamaica and Greece, just the three of them. Friends forever, friends for life.

Then one day not long after breakfast, Charlotte awoke to find Abigail loading all her belongings into a suitcase. A huge smile was plastered across her face.

"I'm going home," she said, and hugged Charlotte close, "I'll phone you later and I'll visit loads. I promise."

But Abigail didn't visit.

So it was just the two of them, Charlotte and Poppy-Rose. Not long after her first friend returned home, things started to go downhill. Poppy-Rose took a turn for the worse. Sepsis they said it was. At first, she struggled to wee, not a drop all day. Then she kept being sick, several times a night. It covered the bedding and leaked onto the floor and every time it happened the sound woke up everyone in the ward. She lay in her bed, her whole body trembling like she'd been out in the cold, but when the wound where her chemotherapy was given became swollen and angry, within hours she'd been moved to another ward in a different part of the hospital complex.

Charlotte never saw Poppy-Rose again.

This time there was no Abigail or Poppy-Rose. It was just her, and at that moment what Charlotte needed was a wee. Her hospital room was private, which in a way she was thankful for, but one thing it certainly did not have an en-suite toilet.

Right, where's the loo?

Charlotte threw back the covers and climbed out of bed. Her left arm hurt like hell, but there was no way on earth she'd lower herself to use a commode. Even the thought of it sent shivers down her spine and a tiny drop of sickness back up her throat. She reached forward and switched on the light in her room. Carefully she opened the door and stepped into the corridors. The overpowering smell of string cleaning fluid drifted up her nose as she walked through. She looked left but didn't see anyone who could help her. She looked right. But still, no one was there. And then out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a girl. She looked about her age, with long reddish hair in a loose ponytail that hung down her back gently grazing against her bum. She wore a long white nightdress that almost touched the floor with every step she took.

Charlotte's pace quickened. If she didn't get to the loo soon she didn't know what would happen.
"Hey," she said, "hey you..." the girl continued to walk away "can you hear me? Hello? Can you tell me where the toilet is? I'm bursting."

She walked quicker and turned a corner as she followed the girl's direction. Charlotte called out again, but louder this time. Almost inches away now, but as she reached out her hand a frosty shiver ran down her spine. The fine hairs on her arms stood to attention and tiny goosebumps littered her arms. The girl stopped. Her body stood as still as a statue, and her head turned to face Charlotte.

An endless shrill sound, high enough to shatter a million glasses, escaped Charlotte's lips and the colour drained from her face as darkness clouded her vision...

Her eyes flickered open. She lay in her bed, and the white walls and floral photographs on the walls came into view. The shape of a figure stood at the foot of the bed, checking the notes written on a clipboard that hung on the bed.

Charlotte cleared her throat, "hello," she said, "can you tell me where the toilet is?"

Charlotte forced herself into a sitting position and reached across to the bedside table where she took a sip of water from a plastic beaker.

The figure turned and on seeing who it was, Charlotte let out a sigh. The person, a lady, was a nurse. She wore a short-sleeved navy tunic, a white braid around the collar and the sleeves. Her trousers were black and clipped to the pocket of her top, her NHS pass. As Charlotte sat she could just about make out her name Nurse Jones.

"Oh, you're back with us?" The nurse spoke calmly and with kindness to her voice.

Charlotte's forehead crumpled into a faint frown, as a confused look appeared on her face.
"What do you mean, I'm back with you? What happened?"

Nurse Jones tucked a free strand of dark blonde hair back behind her ear.

"I was just doing my paperwork when I heard an almighty scream coming from the corridor. My colleagues and I ran out of our nurses' quarters and found you down one of the corridors, screaming your head off." She paused for a moment to jot down a few more notes before continuing. "You were so pale and clammy. Well, I thought you'd seen a ghost."

That got Charlotte thinking. A million different questions raced around her mind. So many strange things had happened recently, really since she'd left the peace of Cambridgeshire for the unusual place that was Castle Stone.

The boy at the girls' school, now that was odd. His name, his face, and his past are all listed on the school's website. He was dead, yet she could see him as clearly as she saw her sisters and parents.

"A ghost?" said Charlotte, "is this place haunted?"

For a moment Nurse Jones let out a laugh but stopped. It was as if she'd just remembered something she'd shoved to the back of her mind, never for it to be repeated.

"A girl." And then she stopped as if trying to keep the thoughts still bottled up inside her.

"A girl..?"

Nurse Jones' nostrils flared as she inhaled deeply, as her breath quickened.

"Beatrice McGregor," she paused and took a deep breath, "she haunts the hospital where she died over forty years ago."

"How? I mean how did she die?"

"Rumour has it, she was a patient here who tripped down the stairs one night in the old hospital which stood on this site in the eighties. Her neck broke on impact with the final step, and her body lay there for days."

"How do you know this?"

"Because" the nurse paused again, "I've seen her."

"How... when..?"

The woman's pager bleeped loudly, its high-pitched beep summoned the nurse to attend to her next patient.

"I must go. There's an emergency. If you need the loo it's down the corridors on the left, just follow the yellow line on the floor." And Nurse Jones left, closing the door to Charlotte's room behind her.

Charlotte's phone lay near the large jug that sat on the table. She picked it up and checked her notifications, there were a few get-well messages from her friends and a photo of her with her sisters popped on the screen. Charlotte, her head still hurting and the desperate need to go to the toilet still present gave a weak smile. The time on her phone read half past one in the morning.

Desperate and determined, nothing was going to prevent Charlotte from going to the loo. It didn't matter what time it was or the fact that her mind continued to play tricks on her, she still needed to go. With that primal need still present in her mind, she flung the cover off the bed and began to leave the room. But no. She paused for a moment. She struggled to find the toilet last time, she wasn't going to fail again. This time she pulled her phone off its charger and using the internet typed in The Lochs General Hospital Ward Map. Within seconds popped a colourful map of the hospital, depicting the wards and most importantly, the toilets. Charlotte was in the Maple ward, so she looked at the map in front of her and quickly worked out that if she took a right turn out of the door, left, then right, she should eventually arrive at the toilets.

She removed the covers off her bed and slipped her phone into the large pocket of her dressing gown. Quickly she hurried out of the door and using the route her phone told her to take, soon ended up in the toilets. After using the facilities and not forgetting to wash her hand, Charlotte headed back the way she came. She yawned and stretched her arms as she slowly walked back towards her room.

Charlotte climbed into bed and pulled the covers over her. A frosty chill clung to the atmosphere. Goosebumps coated her arms and as she took a single breath, the misty cloud escaped her mouth. She looked across at the window, but it was closed. A radiator stood near the window, Charlotte moved from her bed and placed her hand against it. A warmth greeted her touch, but a shiver ran down her spine.

"Charlotte," a voice called out her name.

Charlotte turned sharply, but all she could see was the room where she slept and her reflection in the mirror above the small washbasin.

"Charlotte... I know you can hear me, Charlotte."

"Who is this?" Charlotte took the deepest breath she'd ever taken before in her light as she steadied herself for what was about to happen. "I don't care who you are now, show yourself."

"As you wish..."

In the corner of the room, a misty purple shade glowed. Charlotte watched as it twisted and turned, until in the thick of it, a figure could be seen. It appeared gradually at first, and then with every passing second, the person became clearer. A girl now stood in the corner of the room, her long red hair tied back into a long ponytail. Her skin was colourless, and darkness clung to her eyes. The girl's long pure white nightdress hovered just an inch or so from the ground, under which her bare toes were visible. The more Charlotte looked, the more she noticed the purplish bruising to the side of her neck, consistent with the fall her nurse told her of.

"Beatrice?" Said Charlotte, "so the rumours are true. You do haunt this place?"

**************************************

I'm pleased to say I'm getting a few fans of this book, so I think I'll tag one of them here. Azbunvik

I hope you enjoy this part. The plots really beginning to start now. If you like it, let me know x