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‘Are you going to the leaver’s assembly, Hope?’ Belle asks me on the phone to her. I look up to the ceiling and bounce my leg nervously and ponder.
I’ve taken all of my exams now, and probably failed them considering everything that has happened, but after exams, it’s tradition for the year 13s to have a leaver’s assembly with our teachers and students filled with speeches and short videos of our life in year thirteen and the school. However, there are several reasons why I don’t want to go in:
1. I don’t feel like celebrating.
2. I cannot even fake a smile.
3. I don’t want to go back into school with Mr. Bentley and Miss Harris giving me pitying stares, knowing what’s been going on outside of school.
And 4, I don’t want to be asked or confronted about my dad, because I have no idea if I’ll be able to keep the tears back. My Grandparents kind of get that I don’t want to talk about it, but I don’t think other people will get that until they make me cry, which I really do not want to do.
‘Please come in,’ Belle begs me. ‘You’ll regret it if you don’t.’
‘I highly doubt that I would.’
She sighs, ‘But it’s only for an hour. It’ll be a nice goodbye to the school.’
I’ve had too many goodbyes recently. School was the only consistent thing I had left, and I don’t want to say goodbye to it. I was actually all prepared to leave school, but now it brings back too memories, specifically sitting in Mr. Bentley’s office and being told about my dad. It sends tiny goose bumps all over my body just thinking about it. I just don’t think I can willingly walk back in there to celebrate leaving.
‘No, Belle. I don’t think so.’
‘Just for the assembly? Please? I’ll come and pick you up. Think of it as a positive thing to do, celebrating moving on and growing up. Come on, I really think getting out of the house is good for you. You didn’t think today would go as well as it did, did you? So the same can be said for going to the leavers’ assembly.’
I didn’t tell Belle much of how the visit to Cole went today, merely I went to visit one of the recipients and left it as that. But maybe she is right? I did that, so maybe I can do this too. I waver and immediately Belle senses this. ‘Brilliant. I’ll be at yours for 9am tomorrow. Love you.’ She hangs up before even letting me confirm. Belle’s like this. She’s too blunt for her own good and doesn’t leave room for others to change what’s happening.
Even if she turns up, there’s no guarantee I’m getting in that car tomorrow morning.
oOoOo
It’s funny how you can be sure you can do something one minute and freak out about it the next. This has what has just happened. Belle has had to drag me to her car to get me to go to this leaver’s assembly this morning. I thought I was okay before she turned up, but then it became real, and I started to panic and insist it wasn’t a good idea to go. Nevertheless, she dragged me to her car and locked the doors once I was in the passenger seat, almost like I was a captive animal desperate to escape; the latter is probably true though. She was impressed I was even dressed, so I guess it’s not completely bad; I’m not in my pyjamas so I won’t be publically humiliated at the very least.
Right now, we’re driving along the beach front, ten minutes away from school and listening to the radio with Belle telling me how much she appreciates her family getting an au pair in to take the boys to school now that she’s going to university in the autumn. She is a saint looking after her four brothers and I think she is going to adore university by not having to tend to them as much as she currently does.
She parks up in her usual space in the sixth form car park, before coming around to my side of her car and taking my hand. ‘Come on. Peter’s saved us some seats.’
Reluctantly, I follow Belle into school. Mr. Bentley is shocked when he sees me walk into the hall and pulls me aside briefly. ‘I’m glad you’ve come in for this, Hope. How are things?’
I shrug, slightly offended by his question. How does he want me to answer this? That I’m lapping up being an orphan?
‘I’m here. I’m alive,’ I shrug.
He doesn’t go to say anything, so I look at him expectantly. What else does he want me to say? That I’m loving my new lonely life and doing sun dances? He worries me, this man. He’s too old before his time. I still feel like there’s a massive hole in my body ever since a few weeks ago, and there’s no way to describe it. There are no words to make anyone understand. I’m not willing to pour my sorrows out to anyone, let alone Mr. Bentley, the bearer of bad news.
We find our seats, with Peter getting central middle seats in our grand hall. Belle and I awkwardly shuffle down the row of people before sitting down next to him. I sit between the pair, which neither mind. Belle slips her hand in mine and kisses my cheek. ‘I’m glad you’ve come in for this. I want to end year 13 with my best friend and boyfriend beside me.’
I try to give her a hopeful smile, but Peter rubs my arm up and down. ‘We’re here for you, honey.’
Now, I’m not usually an emotional person, well, before my dad, I didn’t really get moved by many things, but whatever the reason, I am so close to crying as all the happy pictures of students appear on the screen. There’s one picture of me and Belle, sitting on the lawn talking which everyone awws at and several pictures of couples smooching, which ensues lots of wolf whistles. A twinge of jealousy hits me at everyone looking so happy and those couples with someone to confide in whatever happens. I know that Peter and Belle are each other’s number one fans; I don’t have that, I don’t even have my dad anymore, but I know desperately would like to have someone who really understood what hell I’m going through.
I leave my thoughts and find Belle is weeping next to me, crying at the thought of leaving. I change seats with her as Peter wraps his arms around his girlfriend, trying to soothe her. He presses gentle kisses to her temple to try and console her. That boy is pretty damn whipped.
A few teachers give a speech and our head of year gives a last few passing words, before we’re allowed to walk out of the hall with our leaver’s song playing, ‘Sweet Disposition’ but I slow my pace down, not wanting this to really be the end; when I walk through those black iron gates, that’ll be it until picking up my results.
I’ve never liked it when things end. There are very little positives about things ending, though some would argue they are the start of a fresh beginning. But with that being said, I’d rather I had my dad back and not have to move on and have a ‘new start’. I’d rather he was with me now so I don’t have to face the big bad world on my own. It’s just not fair. It’s not fair at all.
‘You want to come and grab a drink with us?’ Peter asks as we exit the school for the final time.
I brush my eyes, hoping my tears halt before looking at the pair of them and shaking my head. ‘No, no, I just want to go home.’
Belle nods, before standing on her tip toes and kissing Peter on the lips. ‘I’ll catch you later at the pub.’ She takes my hand and we walk back to her car hand in hand so she can drive me back to my grandparents. I look at my pretty blonde friend and notice she’s practically walking on sunshine, while I’m treading on black stormy thunder clouds.
‘What are you doing tomorrow, Miss Hopey?’ She asks as we get in her car. She puts my favourite radio station on before reversing out of her parking space and driving us off.
‘I’m visiting the women who got my dad’s lung,’ I murmur cautiously. ‘I thought it’d be a good idea to just get two visits done as soon as they would like before they could change their mind.’
‘What was it like yesterday?’ She dares to ask.
I twist my lips and nod. ‘He was nice. I just hope the rest are.’ That is honestly my biggest fear, that one of these recipients does not deserve a part of my dad. I don’t know how I’ll react if one turns out to be horrible.
‘Do you want me to come with you?’ She checks. ‘I can take you there and come in with you?’
I give her a weak smile at her efforts. I have the sweetest friend in the world. Belle will do everything to help everyone but herself. This is why I’m so happy she has Peter, because he pays her back tenfold in kindness and appreciates his girlfriend like the goddess she is to everyone else.
‘It’s okay, Belle. It’s something I need to do on my own.’
She nods understandingly, but adds, ‘Of course, but I’m here if you need me.’
oOoOo
I woke up ridiculously early this morning, but I put that purely down to the fact that I’m meeting Florence Argent today. My panda eyes are doing nothing to hide the fact that I had an awful nights sleep.
Florence is the mother who received one of my dad’s lungs not so long ago. From the information that my Nan gave me, I know she’s a mother of two young children and lives an hour away from school, which is why I’m getting the train over to visit her, rather than causing inconvenience for anyone else. I didn’t think I would be, but I’m a lot more nervous about this visit than I was with Cole’s. Meeting Cole went so well; maybe even too well. He was so accommodating, helpful and welcoming, and if Florence isn’t like that, I know it’ll tear me in two and it’ll hurt knowing that a horrible person has a part of my lovely and wonderful dad inside her. It wouldn’t be fair, it wouldn’t be right. I could see myself yelling if that was the case, but I’m praying that Florence is as nice, if not nicer than Cole.
On the train, I get out my phone and impulsively search through my phone book and call Cole. I don’t know why or what I’ll get from calling him, but I feel like I need to talk to him. If anyone knows what to say before I meet Florence, as a person meeting me for the first time, he should. Well I really hope so.
‘Hello? Is that Hope?’ He checks.
‘Hi, yes, it’s me,’ I mumble back, looking awkwardly around the carriage.
‘Hey, how are you doing?’ He asks genuinely. I can hear him shuffling around before settling so I can hear him properly. He has a really nice telephone voice actually, not deep, but velvety and manly with a definite West Country accent, similar to my grandparents.
‘Well, that’s why I’m ringing, actually. I’m meeting another organ recipient today and I’m scared. Really scared,’ I admit, pushing my hair back behind my ears. ‘I didn’t know who else to call,’ I admit awkwardly. He probably thinks I’m crazy, but he must know more than anyone what I might be feeling.
He pauses for a moment, before answering. ‘That’s natural though, Hope. I wasn’t nervous about meeting you, I was excited actually, and I’m sure the recipient will feel the same way. They agreed to meet you, didn’t they?’
‘Yeah, I guess.’
‘Then they want to meet you and see you. It’ll be okay, Hope.’
‘But I don’t know why I’m even going there,’ I sigh, twisting my bracelet anxiously. ‘I don’t know what to do, or say.’
‘You’re thinking too much,’ he tells me softly, his voice trying to soothe me. ‘Don’t panic or worry before getting there. If you want to leave, you can. They’ll understand. They’ll just be grateful. Believe me. How about you call me after and we can talk about it then?’
‘Would you mind?’
Truth is, I feel really bad I’m off loading onto a complete stranger, but to me, it makes sense. If anyone could get what I’m trying to feel Cole should, and maybe Florence and the other two recipients will understand my need to meet them as well. But right now, I don’t have anyone to offload on. I can’t do that to my grandparents. I can’t make them feel any worse than they already are feeling. I guess Cole is kind of unbiased and a sort of lifeline for me right now.
‘Course not. Chat to you later then, Hope,’ he chirps.
He really has no idea how much he is helping me. ‘Thank you, Cole, really.’
He scoffs, ‘No problem at all. It’ll be okay, Hope.’
After hanging up, the train pulls into the train station. From then, I follow the instructions Florence has given me to walk to her house religiously, before I find myself outside a decent sized house. Bravely, I walk up to the front door and knock before I chicken out.
A few seconds later and the door opens with who I’m assuming is Florence. She’s holding a toddler in her arms, but he scrambles out of her arms and stands by me and looks up with a big smile. He has bright white blonde hair and has a gorgeous toothy grin. He looks just like his mother and beams up at me.
‘Hope?’ Florence asks with a smile. Florence has faded blonde hair and is a tall woman with a medium build. She looks really well for having such major surgery. She does, however, look tired but that could be due to having two young children running around the house.
‘Yes, nice to meet you. Florence, right?’
She nods. ‘You’re at the right place. And this is Leo.’ Quickly, she whisks me through and leads me to her living room where little Leo’s toys are scattered all over the place. She makes us both a soft drink, before coming back in and sitting down next to me with eager eyes.
‘It’s so good to meet you,’ she starts positively.
I nod a little awkwardly. ‘How are you since the operation?’
‘I’m coping. Leo and Harold are my reason for keeping going and staying strong.’
‘Harold?’
‘My eldest son,’ she says fondly. ‘My husband is picking him up from school today so we could chat.’ I give her a smile, before she continues. ‘I am so sorry for your loss though. Your dad wasn’t that much older than me and it petrified me that my boys could have been without me if I hadn’t have received the organs. I wish your dad didn’t have to lose his life, Hope, because I cannot imagine how tough it would be on my boys to lose either my husband or myself, so I am sorry.’
I avoid answering or commenting on anything she had just said and instead watch as Leo walks up to me and babbles something about a night garden. I nod along, but catch Florence looking completely entranced with her son. She ruffles his white blonde hair and kisses his cheek.
‘Hope is very special, Leo,’ she tells him softly. ‘Her daddy made mummy feel so much better.’
Bitter sweetness runs through my mind and I grimace. I should look on the bright side, the positive side; these young boys have their mum for much longer than they would have if she didn’t receive the lung. But it still makes me want to scream, cry and yell from the top of my lungs how unjust this is. That no one deserved to benefit or rejoice from my dad’s death.
Obviously, I refrain, but my heart is racing thinking about it all.
Leo looks perplexed at my contorted and confused face, but then begins to stroke me. I give her a peculiar look but she smiles lightly. ‘It’s what they teach them at nursery, to be kind and gentle to special things.’
‘Ope is special,’ he tells me with a lispy voice.
‘H h h Hope is special, yes,’ she corrects him. Leo leans in to give me a hug and in that moment, I feel a sense of tenderness run through me.
We talk for the next hour, about her life and why she needed the new lung and her recovery process. She cautiously makes the effort to ask about me, but I keep my answers short and to the point, before she tells me my dad is watching over me and I chew on my bottom lip once more to stop me from crying.
‘But I want him here though,’ I tell her quietly, admitting something I have never voiced before. ‘I don’t want him to watch me; I want him back here, Florence. I can’t bear any of this.’
Florence sits beside me and rubs my back as I bury my head in my hands. She hands me a tissue and I clench it instead of using it.
‘It’s just hard. It’s so hard,’ I tell her, trembling. ‘My end of year 13 was not supposed to end like this. None of this feels real. It doesn’t seem right that he just won’t come back.’
I talk in small bursts and Florence listens, instead of butting in and offering advice until the end. I tell her about how I’ve had to move to live with my grandparents from my home and how my mum isn’t around anymore, which makes her frown.
‘Your mum should be there for you,’ she says sadly. ‘Do you talk to your grandparents about this?’
I shake my head.
She understands and soothes me, before adding, ‘You can call if you’d like to talk. I’m not sure how much help I am, but I can listen. Before I was ill, I was a teacher and am pretty good at listening to problems.’
I glance at her and she’s giving me a comforting smile.
‘Thanks, Florence,’ I mumble, and just wait until I feel like I can talk again. Florence takes the initiative to talk about a few other things, before I feel like it’s time to go.
Florence sees me to the door and repeats that she is there for me, which is more than I could have hoped for out of this visit. Despite crying in front of her at listening to my outburst that I didn’t expect to have, I am so glad she turned out to be a nice woman or else I would have found it a lot harder to accept that she had a part of my dad in her. Two nice people so far, I just hope Tommy and Ben respond similarly with such sincerity and kindness.
On the way back to my Nan’s, I eagerly call Cole up to tell him how it went. It takes a while for him to pick up, but he eventually answers.
‘Hope, how was it?’ He asks happily. ‘I was wondering when you were going to call.’
A little smile makes its way onto my lips hearing his voice and I nod to myself. ‘She was really nice. She was so easy to talk to and lovely. You were right.’
Cole chuckles and proudly tells me, ‘I told you. I get how she would be feeling and it’s kind of like a feeling of inexpressible gratitude, like, we can’t thank your dad, but you are the closest thing.’
I’m nothing compared to my dad, I can’t help but think.
‘Hope? Is everything okay?’ He asks, noticing my silence.
‘Yeah, sorry,’ I whisper back. ‘Just thinking.’
‘No need for sorry,’ he tells me chirpily, before I hear someone calling for him. He sighs, before saying, ‘Sorry Hope, my sister is calling for me. I won’t be a second.’
‘No, you go. Thanks for letting me offload on you,’ I tell him, feeling like a bit of a bother. He must thing I am such a hopeless case bugging him like this, and yet I just can’t not talk to him. There’s something about these recipients that makes me, I don’t know; need to be in contact with them.
‘No no, not at all, you offload all you want on me, okay? I mean it. Yeah Jen, I’m coming!’ He laughs before finally saying goodbye to me.
But I wonder how long that offer will stand? How long will any of these donors let me ring them up just because I need to hear their voice and know they’re alive with my dad in them? A pang of hurt hits my chest at the thought of losing contact with these people, as if they’re my only contact left to my dad anymore and that sends a shooting pain right through my heart.
‘Please don’t let them take those offers back,’ I whisper, looking up into the faded blue sky. ‘Please let them still want to talk to me.’