by Dawson, H A
Silently, she ordered him to stop, and rubbed her sweaty palms on her jeans. He didn’t, and continued rambling about his plans and his future. She tried to provide vague answers at opportune moments, but she knew she sounded unconvincing. How could she partake in trips and holidays when more than likely, in the coming days, she would be back on dialysis?
He looked to her with concerned eyes. ‘I’m sorry, I’m getting carried away.’
‘No, it’s fine. I’d love to do those things with you . . . if I can.’
He squeezed her hand. ‘I really like you Brittany. I have a good feeling about the future.’
She averted her gaze.
‘Ethan likes you. I hope he’s not too much trouble for you. He has boundless energy.’
‘It sounds like he takes after you.’
Pride crept to his face. ‘He does.’
Jason unwrapped the sandwich and nibbled at the edges. She should do the same, but her stomach was swirling with her guilt, and she stared at the wrapper and the vivid text, and yearned her appetite to reappear.
‘I’d love to thank the family for the organ. Did you ever find out who donated yours?’
‘I was told it was a woman in her thirties.’
‘Do you know what happened?’
‘No.’
‘I don’t think people realise the good it does being on the donor register. They never see first hand how it affects lives.’
‘What would you say if you met the family?’ Brittany asked.
He shook his head. ‘I’ve no idea. I suppose I’d want them to see Ethan . . . see what a fantastic little boy he is. Something like that.’
‘Saying thank you seems a little understated.’
‘I agree. It’s all a bit weird though, don’t you think?’
Brittany tilted her head.
‘Ethan has an organ that until today, was in someone else. It’s surreal.’
‘At least the donor didn’t die in vain.’
‘No, that’s something.’
Her phone sounded. She bent over, reached into her bag, and noticing it was Imogen, answered her phone.
‘Hi Imogen, have you found her?’
‘Yes.’ There was hesitancy in her voice, and an unusual restriction to her bubbling exuberance. ‘It’s not good news.’
A heavy weight swelled and her heart pounded.
‘She . . . she tried to hang herself.’
Brittany’s mouth dried.
‘She is alive,’ Imogen said, ‘we don’t know anything else.’
She gawped at Jason and the phone sank to the table. Drawn to the faint sound of Imogen’s voice in the speaker, Jason snatched it from Brittany’s hand and spoke in a concerned tone.
Her mother had tried to commit suicide. It was implausible. Why would she do such a thing? And to hang herself. Didn’t she care at all?
The conversation she had had with Dr O’Riordan sprung into her mind. He had asked her if she had seen her recently and said she was insane. He had known it was going to happen and wasn’t going to do a damn thing about it. It was inconceivable, sickening, and she wondered how she could have ever considered him a kind, caring man.
She looked up, Jason was listening to Imogen, nodding and making an occasional comment. He caught her eye and ended the call.
‘Dr O’Riordan knew she was going to do it. He told me,’ she said.
‘When?’
‘When he came out to tell you about Ethan.’
Jason nodded, sympathetic.
‘And he said she had finally come clean. What does that mean?’
‘Luke knows what’s going on.’
‘Is . . . is she still alive?’
‘For now. Come on, let’s go.’
He gulped down his tea, placed the sandwich back into its plastic, and stood up, rubbing the chair against the floor. Realising she wasn’t following, he stopped and turned around. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I’m not going. I don’t want to see her Jason, not now.’
‘Can’t you put your differences behind you?’
‘It’s not that. If she could attempt suicide she’s not the woman I thought she was.’
Chapter 38
The little boy was doing brilliantly well. So far, his kidney was functioning, and there had been no complications. Brittany was pleased, but she struggled to feel anything other than hurt, caused by her mother’s betrayal. Gathering her courage, she perched on a bench in the hospital grounds and stared at the vast rows of windows.
She had wanted no contact with Michelle, and with the exception of Jason, had refused all calls. It allowed her to come to terms with what had happened, allowing her to muddle through her thoughts and emotions. Yet rather than getting easier, each hour that past accentuated the pain. Brittany wanted to feel nothing, and urged her heart to remove the bitter taste that was her mother. For the last twelve years, Michelle had done nothing other than hurt her, and she had succeeded again.
Brittany concluded Michelle’s suicide attempt was attention seeking, and begrudged the sympathy she received. Jason though, seemed to disagree, although his lips were tight shut and he never offered an explanation to his thoughts. Even when she told him Luke had received a message to hurry to Michelle’s house, which was surely proof enough of her intentions, he still held a taut gaze. Once again, Jason was siding with her mother, and along with Jason and Imogen, they were likely to be at her bedside, listening to her reasoning and drying her tear-sodden face.
Sirens sounded at her rear. She spun around. Police cars jerked to a halt, and officers marched into the building, and moments later, a man with a large camera ran towards the entrance, shortly followed by another, and another. Soon a crowd had gathered, and there was an excited mumble in the air. Brittany stood up, stretched to see if she could see anything above the heads, and witnessed a hospital security guard easing people back.
‘What’s going on?’ a woman asked.
‘I’ve no idea.’
Suddenly, there was a mad rush forward, everyone vying for position.
‘Looks like someone’s being arrested,’ the woman said. ‘A big chap with bushy eyebrows.’
Brittany rushed to her left seeking a better view. It was Jerry O’Riordan, and just behind him, locked in a policeman’s arms, was the transplant coordinator.
Chapter 39
Pacing back and forth, Brittany absorbed the view from her flat, and scanned the park, the birds in a nearby hedgerow, and the cars that moved like ants on the roads. She glanced at the clock, she wrapped her arms around her middle, and she ran her fingers through her ponytail.
‘Come on,’ she muttered, urging Luke, Imogen and Jason’s arrival.
The doorbell sounded. Jerking, she raced to let them in. Michelle was cowering at their rear. Brittany flung Luke and Imogen a harsh stare.
‘She wanted to explain,’ Imogen said.
Scowling, Brittany stomped to the living room and through to the kitchen, and flicked on the kettle.
Jason appeared at her rear and placed his arm around her waist. ‘Just hear her out.’
‘I’m . . . I’m not sure I can forgive her.’
‘Once you’ve heard what she has to say, you don’t have to see her again, if that’s what you want.’
The water bubbled and vapours rose to the ceiling. Brittany poured it into the mugs, stern-faced, and sensing Jason disappointed gaze at her rear, her stoicism faltered. Before her suicide attempt, she had vowed to show her mother compassion. Maybe it was worth one more try.
‘She’s never made any effort with me,’ Brittany said softly.
‘Maybe not, but you’re a much stronger person.’
She folded her arms and lowered her scrunched face.
‘Just do it for me,’ he pleaded. ‘Please.’
Unable to resist his begging eyes she reluctantly agreed. In return, she received a kiss and a brief hug. He smiled, appreciative, and carried the tray of drinks to the living room. She followed in his sh
adow.
Luke and Imogen were chatting amiably on the sofa, and Michelle, who was sat on the armchair, kept her head low, disguising her shame. Brittany, uncomfortable, hovered in the doorway, her eyes wandering along the carpet. As soon as Jason had placed the tray on the table, he scurried back into the kitchen and returned with a chair for Brittany.
Luke looked to her and smiled. ‘We gathered enough evidence for the police. They’re sure that Dr O’Riordan will get a long prison sentence. Michelle helped too. She’s told them what she knew. It has answered a few questions.’
‘So why did she kill Scott Cole?’
Luke looked to Michelle, urging her to speak out. She fiddled with her blouse and shook her head.
Ultimately, he was forced to proceed. ‘Firstly, I’d like to say O’Riordan is the main suspect for Tim’s death. He arranged for other vehicles to cause him to swerve, and along with the marijuana which had been administered secretly, it caused the accident.’
‘Just because he was investigating it?’
Luke nodded. ‘For Angela, his so-called accident confirmed in her mind what was going on. Fearing her own involvement, she tried to remove the evidence.’
‘Who gave Tim the marijuana?’
‘Nothing has been confirmed, but we reckon before the accident Tim met someone, an associate of O’Riordan’s, and they gave it to him. Someone must have suspected Tim was tracking them, and they lured him in.’
‘That’s horrid. But I still don’t understand what’s going on and how is Angela Canning involved?’
‘She assisted Dr O’Riordan in taking samples from healthy patients and storing the data.’
‘What samples?’
Luke turned to Michelle, ‘you tell her.’
‘I was so desperate to help you,’ she said in a squeak. ‘You hated dialysis, you’d scream and cry and make such a fuss. “Why can’t I be like other children”, you’d say. You didn’t want to miss school and would rant about the games you’d missed, the fun the others were having, from the days in the park to the school trips. I wanted a solution, a quick fix.’
Brittany was impassive.
‘I only wanted to see you better,’ Michelle continued. ‘I wanted you to lead a normal life. Kidney failure is devastating to watch.’ She turned to Jason, searching for support. ‘He did the same, paid O’Riordan. It takes a parent to understand.’
‘Don’t patronise me . . .and leave Jason out of it.’
‘Sorry,’ she mumbled. ‘You must realise I wasn’t the only one drawn to O’Riordan’s offer over the years. It wasn’t uncommon. He gave me the hope I could only dream of, and he said it with compassion. I believed him, and didn’t want to listen to my own concerns or think of the consequences. I only wanted you better.’
‘And the samples?’ Brittany asked, stony-faced.
Michelle frowned. ‘Progress was slow, too slow, and it was getting harder by the day to pacify you, so one day I crept into his office. He’d been called out and left his emails open. The list was there, in an attachment. I knew I was onto something big, and my heart was beating so fast I could hardly breathe.’
Brittany crossed her legs and folded her arms.
‘I recognised the blood and tissue type results, and so I printed it off.’ Her eyes darted. ‘I’ve regretted it ever since. If he hadn’t have left his emails open I would have been none the wiser. It was his fault Brittany. How could any mother resist?’
Brittany looked to Luke. It didn’t make sense. What had the list to do with her situation?
‘The list contains critical data relating to organ compatibility from healthy people. That is, potential living donors,’ Luke said.
Brittany gawped, her dread building.
‘Scott was on that list,’ Michelle said. ‘I wouldn’t have made the connection except his name was written onto a notepad and ringed. So, I did a bit more investigating.’
‘But Scott wasn’t-’
‘I had to do it.’ Michelle screeched. ‘You’re more precious to me than anything in the world.’
Brittany scanned the faces. Michelle was unwilling or unable to continue, Imogen was impassive, and Jason had a grave expression.
Luke broke the silence. ‘She discovered Scott was a perfect match for you. Dr O’Riordan had tried to kill him, but his plan failed and so he had to wait before he tried again. Often, he used drugs to cause car crashes, but for some reason Scott had managed to avoid taking them and he survived the collision.’
‘But my organ was from a woman in her thirties.’
‘That’s what the records say.’
Brittany held her hand to her mouth as the excruciating sight of Lisa’s grief danced in her mind. It always had been a suspicion, but it was one she easily pushed aside, having been told the records were never wrong. How could she ever face her again, knowing she carried her dead husband’s organ?
And how could Michelle do it? Distraught, Brittany froze to the spot as the enormity of the act pounded. Michelle had killed a man to give her an organ. It couldn’t have been easy, especially knowing the consequences of prison awaited. She must have held her motive firm in her mind; she must have loved her more than she could ever comprehend.
Brittany’s gaze locked with Michelle’s, tears stung her eyes and a sickly feeling swelled in her stomach.
‘How could you?’ Brittany squeaked.
‘It . . . it wasn’t my fault. If O’Riordan hadn’t created that list-’
‘But Scott was your friend. They both were.’
Michelle covered her face with her hands and lowered her head. After a moments hesitation she looked up, tormented. ‘I had to save you.’
‘Couldn’t you have just asked him for an organ?’
‘I was going to but O’Riordan rushed me. I . . . I didn’t have a choice.’
Brittany’s anger bubbled. ‘We always have a choice. How could you look Lisa and Scott in the eye, knowing what you were planning? I thought you enjoyed being with them.’
‘I never planned it! I never intended to kill him! He was a lovely man. I wanted him to be a living donor but I knew he was afraid of needles. I . . . I didn’t want to rush him. I was hoping he’d volunteer to be tested.’
‘But he never did.’
She rubbed the moisture from her eyes. ‘No.’
‘So you killed him instead.’
‘O’Riordan set me up! He arranged for us to meet in the basement and messed with my head. He told me we couldn’t ask Scott to be a living donor . . . we couldn’t take the risk of him saying no. It would expose him, and put you and countless others at risk.’
Brittany held a steadfast gaze.
‘I was confused. I didn’t know what I was doing. I only ever wanted you to live. It’s what any mother would do. I didn’t care about myself or if I went to prison. My own life was irrelevant. I had one aim, and that was to save you. I couldn’t cope if you’d died.’
Despite Michelle’s actions being ill conceived, especially since there was an alternative, her explanation seemed genuine and heartfelt, and there seemed to be an element of truth in her explanation. Yet still, it sat uncomfortable in Brittany’s stomach. A man had died so she could live. Would she ever be able to shake off a gut-churning guilt?
She looked to Jason, searching for a consoling word or gesture, but he sat in a stunned silence with a look of terror in his face.
‘Oh my God!’ she said. ‘That means . . .’
Unable to continue, she looked to Luke. He nodded, regretful.
Jason leapt to his feet, trotted to the outer door and slammed it shut. Anxious, Brittany looked to Luke, Imogen and Michelle, before hurrying after him.
The warm air was soothing and the car park silent. Scanning the immediate vicinity, she searched for his long, lean frame. A small chubby woman with a terrier dog, ambled across the car park entrance, and a sturdy man strode away from a newsagent on the opposite side. She trotted towards them and looked up the road, straining to see beyond re
moval firm carrying furniture across the path. Jason wasn’t visible. She spun around. A woman with a nose piercing and red hair accompanied a child on a tricycle.
‘Have you seen a man,’ Brittany asked, ‘a bit taller than me and skinny?’
‘He went that way,’ she said, pointing towards the park.
She tried to run, but her laboured breathing restricted and her heart pounded. Fighting a dizzy spell, and adhering to a warning by her physician, she steadied herself and continued at a slower pace.
She entered the park. Birds scurried into the hedgerow, a dog sniffed at the trunk of a tree, and children played with a ball on the field. To her left, a group of elderly people participated in a game of bowls, and just beyond was a pond and a group of geese. But there was no sight of Jason, and her hopes diminished.
He could have gone home or returned to her flat. She reached into her pocket for her phone and dialled his number. The sound of a ring tone alerted her. She spun around. He was a few metres away at the other side of the hedge, and was sat at a bench and leaning forward.
She sat beside him, and waited for him to speak.
‘What have I done?’ He looked up, his eyes streaky red and his skin ashen. ‘Someone was murdered so Ethan could live, and it’s all my fault.’
‘You weren’t to know.’
‘I should have never gotten involved. I always knew I shouldn’t have done it. How could I have been so stupid?’
‘You weren’t stupid, you were desperate.’
‘That’s not what you think of Michelle. I saw the look you gave her.’
‘That’s different. She killed Scott, you didn’t.’
‘No,’ he said sternly, ‘someone did it for me. It amounts to the same thing.’
‘No it doesn’t. You thought you were queue jumping.’
‘I had a suspicion it was something else.’ He heaved a sigh. ‘How will I ever forgive myself?’
‘You’ll find a way. You’ll have to, for Ethan.’
His eyes darted, tormented and agitated. ‘He must never find out.’