A Flash of Blue

by Maria Farrer

  “So this’ll be for him too. I’m beginning to get it now.”

  “Your dad has asked that I use the opportunity to tell my own story – how I came to meet you. He thinks it will help other young people. So I wanted to ask you if you’d mind if I talk about you in my presentation. That’s all.”

  “Dad’s asked you to talk about how you got into trouble? That’ll be tough, won’t it?”

  “Yes, I guess it will, and my dad will probably freak out. But I want to do it.”

  “As long as you mention that I’m witty and good-looking then I’m cool with the rest.” He barely has the energy to laugh.

  The nurse smiles at me. “I think Jeremy needs to rest now,” he says.

  I look at my watch. “Oh, God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stay this long. Your dad said only five minutes.” I get up, almost forgetting to be careful where I put my feet.

  He shakes his head. “Don’t go.”

  “I’m sure Amber’s had quite enough of you for one day,” says the nurse. Jeremy holds one finger up at him and he laughs.

  “Will you come again?” He can barely keep his eyes open.

  As I tiptoe away I hear him whisper, “Good luck.”

  “Good luck to you too,” I whisper back. But I don’t think he hears.

  I’m not going to let him die.

  If Jeremy survives then everything will be all right. That’s what I’ve told myself; somehow, it will all sort itself out. I don’t know how – I don’t need to know how. Saving Jeremy has become an obsession. How hard can it be? This is how I can make it up to Dr Levine and Liam and Gran and Mum and Dad and anyone else whose lives I’ve messed up.

  I don’t have long. I can’t spend months planning and preparing because Jeremy may not have months. Dad can’t get his head round it at all. He keeps asking if it’s some form of community service. His main concern is that I don’t make a fool of myself – or perhaps him – in front of all the members of the running club. I’ve told him about the organ donation bit but I haven’t mentioned that I’m going to talk about how I got involved with the police. If he knew about that, he’d stop me, for sure.

  Meeting Jeremy has made me stronger. If he can be brave and cheerful and positive then I can too. I hold on to that. I know Declan and Tyler are still out there and Declan’s threats are still real. I’ve kept my mouth shut and if they will only leave me alone, at least until I’ve done this, that’s all I ask.

  And then? Then I have some decisions to make. But for now I push that aside because I’m working out that some things are worth fighting for and some aren’t. Jeremy’s easy – I’ll fight for him all the way. As for the rest, I haven’t made up my mind yet.

  Standing in the corner of the sports hall, I watch as people start to arrive. There are a lot of faces I know, and many I don’t. In less than an hour, I’m going to have to stand up in front of all of them and give my presentation. Talking in public is not something I do – ever, let alone when I’m going to talk about Liam, about Jeremy, about why they should become organ donors. I’d like to run away, but if I’ve learnt anything over the past few months, it’s that running away never works. Will anybody listen to me?

  Simon comes up and puts his arm around me.

  “OK?”

  “I’m not sure I can do this.”

  “Too late to change your mind now.”

  I hang my head miserably.

  “Hey, come on,” he says punching my arm. “Your speech is great.”

  “What if no one signs up? What if Jeremy doesn’t survive?”

  “You can’t think like that. Even if you only get one new donor it’ll be a bonus. Stop moping around and remind yourself why you’re doing this. You said Jeremy didn’t want it to be about him and it isn’t. Not really.”

  “Perhaps you’d like to do the speech for me, since you’re so confident.”

  “I don’t have the necessary criminal qualifications,” says Simon with a smile. “Liam wasn’t my brother and I don’t know Jeremy. Apart from that, no problem.”

  I watch as people edge their way into the rows of seats, ready for the meeting. There’s a mixture of parents, teenagers and young kids, new to the running club. There’s always a rush at the start of the season and then a lot drop out.

  The president calls everyone to order and the crowded hall gradually goes quiet. I pretend to look interested as he explains how things are going to work this year. It’s the same as it works every year so I don’t know why he bothers. The usual parents ask the usual stupid questions and the usual moaners moan. I keep unfolding, reading, and refolding my speech. I wish they’d all shut up so I can get this over and done with.

  Finally there are no more hands left in the air, no more questions to be asked. The president stands up.

  “Now, before you all go, one of our members would like to say a few words. Amber, would you like to come to the front?”

  If this is what it means to make amends, then I’m beginning to understand how hard it is. A ripple of chatter starts as I take my place. I clear my throat but no one takes any notice. I fix Jeremy in my mind, and Liam. A small chorus of “shhhhhhs” circles the audience.

  My hands shake as I unfold my speech. I try to remember all the things Gran has told me about talking to the back of the hall. Here goes.

  “Hello,” I start but my voice barely comes out. I look at my feet. I try again.

  “Hello,” I say to the back of the hall. “As most of you know my name is Amber Neville. I’ve been a member of this club for five years…” The hall seems very large and I make my voice as loud as I can. “In a moment I am going to show you a short film about organ donation, but first of all I am going to tell you why I’m here.”

  I force myself to look around the room, to engage with my audience.

  That’s when I see him. There, leaning against the wall in the corner by the door. Tyler Dawson. The sight of him knocks the breath out of me. How stupid could I be? Of course this is where he’d find me. No one can question him being here; he’s a club member after all. He’s wearing his tracksuit with the hood up and his club T-shirt. He knows I’m looking at him. His head is down but his eyes are lifted, watching me. My emotions splinter. I’m scared, I’m angry, I want to scream at him to go away, and yet…

  A small child near the front whines, “Has she finished?” I take a deep breath. Fuck you, Tyler Dawson, I think. I’m not giving up now.

  “My brother Liam was eighteen years old and fit and healthy – or that’s what we thought. You’ll find his name on just about every trophy in the club – except for the girls’ ones, of course.” There’s some laughter and that helps. “Just over a year ago, as some of you know, Liam died suddenly and unexpectedly of catastrophic heart failure.” The atmosphere in the room changes. You can feel it – see it in the way people move slightly in their seats. “The effect on my family was devastating.” My voice cracks and I fight to regain control. “I think we all went a bit off the rails; Mum, Dad and me, but me especially. We all blamed ourselves. We all wondered if there was something we should, or could have done. Sometimes tragedy brings out the best in people and sometimes the worst. In our family, it’s brought out the worst.” I look at Dad, but he is staring at the floor. I swallow. “In my case, I ended up hanging out with the wrong people–” I risk a glance towards Tyler “–and I ended up in trouble with the police.” He’s still as a stone. Him and Dad. There are some murmurs from the audience, some shuffling. “I was involved in a burglary on a house– a house belonging to Dr and Mrs Levine, their daughter and their son, Jeremy. Obviously, I didn’t know them at the time but I met Dr Levine in a restorative justice conference – a meeting where victims and offenders get together to talk.” The lines of faces watch me expectantly. A baby starts crying. I need to keep going. “That’s how I got to hear about Jeremy. He is eighteen, the same age as Lia
m was when he died. Jeremy has a serious heart condition and is waiting for a transplant. If he doesn’t get a new heart soon – very soon – he may not survive.” I’m into my stride now. I can do this.

  “Did you know that over a thousand people die every year while waiting for organ transplants? That’s about three every day.” There are murmurs of surprise. “If Jeremy doesn’t get a transplant soon, he will become one of those three. He will die because there aren’t enough donors. I want to change that.” The atmosphere in the room has changed again. Dad is looking at me now and he’s nodding. “For me, this is a very personal campaign. I’m doing it because I want to show Jeremy, his family, my family and the whole community how sorry I am for what I’ve done. All of us are young and fit and I hope that none of us is going to die any time soon. But if the worst happens – like it did to my brother – then each and every one of us could help to save another life: in fact many lives. It means our death wouldn’t be a complete waste. Liam wasn’t a donor but I know he would have become one if he’d lived long enough to think about it. So I’m asking all of you to think about it and to ask your friends and family to think about it.”

  I have to pause. Suddenly all the emotions of the last few months, of the last year, are exploding inside me.

  “I’m doing this for Jeremy and for Liam and I’m asking you to help me. Thank you.”

  I choke out the last few words and stumble off the stage. I hear clapping. The screen at the front blazes with colour as Simon sets the short campaign film going. It’s only a couple of minutes long. I move quietly along the side of the hall in semi-darkness, to where Tyler was standing. I’m safe with all these people around me.

  He’s gone.

  I scan the room, but there’s no sign of him. I want to know why he was here. Everyone is now focused on the screen at the front. At the end, the lights go up and the president brings the meeting back to order. He thanks me, peering out to see where I’ve gone, and directs everyone who would like to sign up to the tables at the back of the hall. This is what it’s about and yet my focus has shifted. Tyler fills my head.

  A man with a notebook pushes in beside me and he tells me he’s from the local paper. He’d like more details so he can run a full story. Another person snaps my photograph. There are questions. Already I can see people lining up. I can see people talking to Dad and Dad smiling as if all this was his idea. People congratulate me as they pass. They tell me I’m brave for telling my story.

  Adrenaline is racing and all the time my eyes keep searching the room. Gran handing out supporter bracelets. The headteacher of a local school asks me if I’ll do a talk in assembly next term and two other people ask if I’ll speak at their sports clubs. Everything inside me starts to buzz. This could work.

  But where is Tyler?

  My eyes fix on the exit door. I know he’s out there, waiting. I can feel it. And I know I have to see him. I pose with the club president as he shakes my hand and more photos are taken.

  “Will you be running this season?” he asks me.

  “I hope so. I’m working on my fitness.” I pause, trying to get the right tone. “I think I saw Tyler Dawson here. Do you know if he’s signed up for this year?”

  The president smiles. “He has indeed. It’ll be good to have him back. He was one of our top runners – along with your brother, of course.”

  What game is Tyler playing? What is he doing? I excuse myself, say I need some air.

  Simon stops me on my way to the door. “It’s OK, you can smile now,” he says. “That was brilliant.”

  I try to look enthusiastic. “Back in a moment,” I say. Luckily the toilets are near the entrance and they provide a good alibi. I walk into the ladies, wait a couple of seconds, then slip outside. The evening air is cool and I walk slowly down the steps and lean against the wall.

  Within seconds, I hear a loud whisper.

  “Amber?”

  His voice makes my heart stop. This must be the most stupid thing I’ve ever done. What if Simon is right and all this is a trick? What if Declan is waiting round the corner? There are still plenty of people milling around. I can shout for help if I need it.

  “I’m on my own,” he says, coming closer, talking quietly. His hood is up and his head is down so I can’t really see his face. “It’s safe. You don’t need to worry. I need to talk to you.” He stretches out his hand, but I don’t take it. I follow him away from the entrance, away from the lights.

  “That’s far enough,” I say.

  “Are you all right?” he asks.

  “How can you even ask me that?”

  “It was a good speech.” He still doesn’t look at me. “Liam would’ve liked it.”

  “Don’t tell me what my brother would or wouldn’t like. What are you doing here?” I ask.

  He looks up and I see the bruising round his eyes, across the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t obvious in the hall, but it is now, close up.

  “Tyler! What happened?”

  “The police came asking questions.”

  “It wasn’t me, I promise,” I say backing away. “I didn’t say anything to the police.”

  “But I did,” he says. “I turned myself in and I’ve told them everything.”

  “You did what? Are you mad? Now what’s going to happen?”

  Tyler pulls up his sweatshirt so I can see the bruises across his chest and stomach. This, his eyes scream at me. THIS already happened. He’s badly beaten up.

  “Declan?”

  “Of course Declan.” He spits out the name.

  “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

  “You think I’d beat myself up? I’m not that thick. You’ll have to trust me on this one.”

  “Trust you?” My voice is too loud.

  He drops his shirt, shakes his head. “I’ve got to see you. Properly. Not here. I need to talk to you.”

  “No.”

  “I’ve told you. I’ve turned myself in. And the others.”

  “How come you’re here and not banged up in a police cell somewhere?”

  “I’m on bail until I appear in court.”

  “And the others?”

  “Joel and Becky have talked. Declan’s up to his neck in it. I guess you’ll be called as a witness.”

  I lean against the wall. I don’t want to be part of this. I don’t want any more trouble. I want to draw a line under what’s happened and move on.

  “You have to leave me alone,” I say.

  “I can’t. Not yet. We’re in this together. I owe you an explanation, at least.”

  I sigh with frustration. Tyler scuffs the ground with the toe of his trainer.

  “Liam was going to tell you something on the day he died,” he says. “Something he wanted you to know.”

  I hardly dare to breathe, hardly dare believe what I’ve just heard. Tyler must be telling the truth. I haven’t mentioned this to anyone but Gran.

  “Go on then – tell me,” I challenge.

  “Amber?” Simon’s voice cuts through the air. I look over my shoulder. My stomach drops as he starts walking our way. “What are you doing out here?” he asks. “I’ve been searching everywhere for you. There are loads of people—” Simon’s eyes lock on to Tyler. “What are you doing here?”

  I’ve never seen Simon look so angry. “You lay one hand on Amber and—” For a horrible moment I think he’s going to try to deck Tyler and I put myself in-between them, face to Simon, back to Tyler.

  “It’s OK, Simon,” I say, holding up both hands.

  “It is not OK.” He speaks to Tyler over the top of my head. “Leave her alone or I’ll call the police and tell them everything.”

  “It’s all right mate, I’m going.”

  I feel pressure against the back pocket of my jeans and I know Tyler’s put something there. I turn to look at
him but he’s already jogging off along the side of the building.

  Simon takes a step to follow him but I hold him back. “Let him go,” I say. I slip my hand into my jeans pocket and my fingers touch a small piece of paper. I don’t take it out.

  “You promised me you wouldn’t see him,” Simon says, his aggression now turned full force on me.

  “I didn’t plan to see him. I didn’t know he was going to be here.”

  “So what was he doing?” Simon’s blocking the path between me and the car park.

  “He’s a member of the running club. He’s got as much right to be here as I have. But he came to tell me he’s turned himself into the police and handed over the names of all the others.” Simon stares at me in disbelief.

  “And I suppose you believe him.” Simon says it with such venom that it knocks the wind out of me. “Don’t be taken in,” he says. “Don’t fall for it, Amber, please.”

  “For what?” I say coolly.

  “For Tyler’s lies.”

  Tyler’s bruised body is raw in my memory. I look over my shoulder into the darkness.

  I don’t think he’s lying.

  Gran buys about a hundred copies of the local paper. There’s a photo of me and a big write-up on the second page along with all the information for organ donation. Gran says I should be pleased about the publicity and I guess I am – it all helps. But the article makes out like I’m some brave, amazing kind of person, a good example for other young people, apparently. I’m not brave or amazing. I’m a coward. I didn’t have the courage to speak out about Declan. Tyler did.

  I sit at the kitchen table, stare at the article then slam the paper shut. What’s the point in all this anyway? It’s not going to bring Liam back. It may not even save Jeremy. I thought doing this would help, but now it’s come to it, I know it’s not enough. I still haven’t made it up to the Levines or Liam and, until I do, I’ll never make peace with myself. I finger the slip of paper that Tyler pressed into my back pocket. His phone number.