The Legacy of Lucy Harte

by Emma Heatherington

  ‘Well it is summer in England, babe,’ said Josh. ‘What do you expect? Tropical heat?’

  ‘Oh hush,’ she said. He knew what she meant and he always told the worst jokes, especially when he got nervous.

  ‘Play my favourite song again for me,’ she whispered as she lay on the hospital bed, the same bed she had been lying on for four hours a day, three days a week for almost two years now. ‘Every time I hear it I wonder if it will be the last time I do.’

  ‘Now, it’s your turn to hush,’ he replied, flicking through the iPod. ‘Don’t say things like that.’

  ‘It’s true,’ said Claire. ‘I don’t know how long I can take this any more… I’m so, so cold…’

  She tried to concentrate on the lyrics of the Elvis Presley classic, to ignore what was really going on inside her.

  ‘Don’t say that, Claire, please don’t,’ said Josh, letting go of her hand and rubbing his own tired eyes. ‘I mean, you aren’t going to die at twenty-nine, are you?’

  Claire looked out of the window as sleet and rain pelted down.

  ‘People of all ages die every day,’ said Claire with a sigh. ‘It’s the only way I can live, if someone dies. And I can’t do this forever.’

  ‘No, you can’t, but we still have to keep hoping,’ Josh replied. ‘Close your eyes and imagine the twins’ birthday party next week. Think of them opening their presents, of them tearing the house apart, of me messing up the cake like I did last year and you getting mad, of the sounds of your father’s usual jokes, which are way worse than mine. Do you think we could do all of that without you?’

  Despite her husband’s attempts to cheer her up, Claire knew the reality as well as he did and she couldn’t deny it any longer. Kidney failure was a killer and she had been waiting for long enough now for a donor to save her life. Her time, it seemed, was almost up. Her birthday parties and family celebrations, without a donor, were becoming fewer.

  ‘You would do it all without me if you had to,’ she said, fixing herself, now that she knew her dialysis was done for another day. ‘Anyhow, I thought you had shopping to do for the boys today, you promised? I’ve told you a million times that I really don’t need you watching over me here every time I have this done. Waiting and hoping and waiting…’

  Josh shrugged and Claire knew that no matter how many times she said it, he wasn’t going anywhere. He would wait with her forever if he had to and when the consultant’s secretary asked them to wait on their way out of the ward, Claire knew by her face that it was to be no ordinary discussion.

  ‘What do you think he wants?’ whispered Josh. ‘Is there something wrong?’

  Claire didn’t answer. They would find out soon enough. She always felt a bit sick and faint after dialysis, but a rush of nerves made her need the loo really badly this time.

  ‘Mr and Mrs Bryans, please take a seat in the waiting area and Mr Henry will be with you shortly,’ said the receptionist.

  ‘Is everything okay?’ asked Claire, afraid of the reply.

  ‘Have a seat. He won’t be long,’ said the lady with a neutral expression.

  Moments later they were led into an office, where they sat side by side at the end of a long mahogany desk and they waited as the consultant finished a phone call to another doctor. Claire overheard Mr Henry speak of a hospital with an address in Ireland and he wrote on a pad of paper as he spoke. She shouldn’t have heard that much, she knew that, and her heart leaped in anticipation.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Josh whispered to her, but Claire just clasped his hand. ‘Do you think –?’

  ‘Don’t say it,’ she whispered back. ‘Just wait and see.’

  Could this really be happening? She didn’t want to get her husband’s hopes up in case she was wrong. She didn’t want to get her own hopes up in case she was wrong, but Claire Bryans had been to enough hospital appointments down the years to tell if it was good news or bad news and this was good news.

  She just knew it.

  She knew it by the atmosphere. She knew by how Mr Henry hung up the phone. She knew by how he rubbed his hands before he shook theirs to greet them. She knew by how he didn’t pause between his sentences. She knew by how he didn’t fidget. She knew by how he got straight down to business. She just knew.

  ‘We’ve found you a donor,’ the doctor told them and Claire looked at her husband to make sure this was real.

  ‘Oh my God!’ she exclaimed, putting her hands over her face in disbelief. ‘Really?’

  No matter how much she ‘just knew’ she still couldn’t believe it was finally happening. Sweet heavens, it was finally happening.

  ‘Oh my God!’ she said again and she almost lost her breath momentarily. ‘Are you sure? For me? Are you absolutely sure?’

  ‘Yes, for you, Claire,’ said the doctor. ‘I’m absolutely sure. We’ll have you in and out in a week, just in time for your boys’ birthday. You did tell me it was their birthday soon?’

  Claire nodded and tried to reply as tears rolled down her face.

  ‘It’s next Saturday,’ she told him. ‘They will be six next Saturday.’

  She swallowed and closed her eyes and the fatigue and nausea she always felt after dialysis faded away until it was no longer there. This would soon be history to her. She could live a normal life again.

  ‘I can’t believe this is really happening. Are you really sure?’ she asked Mr Henry once again.

  ‘I’m really sure, Claire,’ said Mr Henry with a gentle smile. He had become a big part of their lives over the past two years and now he was giving them the news they had always hoped for. ‘Now what will happen is, you’ll be admitted to the ward and…’

  Claire looked out of the window behind the doctor at the clear, blue August sky but she couldn’t absorb all the formalities Mr Henry spoke of. She would leave that up to Josh, who was drinking in the doctor’s every word. She wanted to go outside and dance and scream and thank the heavens for her second chance of life. She wanted to hug her baby boys and let them know that everything was going to be alright again. That Mummy was going to get better.

  Two birds landing on the windowsill outside caught her eye.

  She stared at them until they blurred, feeling the whole world slow down as she breathed and smiled and she blinked her eyes and let the news she had been waiting for sink in at long last. Dates, procedures, risks, side effects, chances, success rates, life… she had dreamed of this moment. She had literally clung on to her own life for this moment. And now it was really happening. Somebody, somewhere had decided to save a life, and that life was hers.

  Me… Claire Bryans from the Wirral in the north of England; a humble part-time cleaner; a mummy of two rascal boys; a wife; a daughter; a sister; a friend; the owner of Chico the rescued dog and Penny the runaway cat. A lover of science, of Elvis Presley, afraid of the dark, a fan of Mills & Boon novels and of eating too much chocolate ice cream until I almost get sick. Me?

  ‘Thank you, whoever you are,’ she whispered as she closed her eyes and said a silent prayer to the hero who she would never meet but who had given her the most precious gift of all – life. ‘I don’t know how I will ever get the opportunity to say thank you, but I really hope I do.’

  Her husband gave her hand a gentle squeeze and they held each other tightly.

  ‘I told you we had time,’ he said to her but she couldn’t speak, so she just nodded and held him closer.

  ‘We have now,’ she said as she wiped her eyes. ‘Let’s not waste even a second. I need to tell the boys. I need to tell my babies that Mummy is going to be okay and that we are going to have the best birthday party ever.’

  Then she looked out of the window again and the little birds flew away.

  THE END

  Acknowledgements

  It has taken me much longer than I planned to write this book (a lot longer!), but I can safely say it has been worth all the blood, sweat and tears to really explore the sensitive, emotional subject of donating life.

>   I’ve learned a lot on the subject over the past couple of years and I’d firstly like to thank Ciaran and Geraldine Campbell as well as Patricia Kelly for allowing me to hear their story and for answering questions at all hours at night when I was in the zone.

  I’d also like to acknowledge little Juniper and her family in the US for the insight into their life and for helping me to fully appreciate the wonder and miraculous gift that is organ donation.

  Thanks to my editor Emily Ruston who really pushed me to make sure every drop of emotion I could spare was put into this book. You are simply the best and it was an honour to work with you.

  Thanks also to Charlotte Ledger and Kimberley Young for giving me the opportunity to get this story out there with HarperImpulse and for their patience as I wrote around a very busy, bumpy time for me and my family.

  Big thanks to all the readers, Facebook friends and all those who sent me messages of encouragement as they waited for ‘Lucy Harte’ to hit the shelves, especially Grace Girvan and Kerry Davidson for reading an early draft and giving me some very constructive feedback and to my aunt and Godmother Kathleen McCausland for being there all the time to listen to story ideas and also for babysitting duties lately! Thanks to my sister Vanessa for helping out with Sonny too. It really means a lot.

  My cousin Charlene Greensword helped me come up with the title of the book – it was so long ago she probably doesn’t remember, but cheers cuz! It’s a good one!

  Thanks to Sherry Perkins and Kerry Burak for being so supportive in promoting my work to their friends on the other side of the Atlantic. Every little helps and you girls are a great support team to have!

  Thanks to all the bloggers and printed/broadcast media who make sure the work us authors do gets out there, especially Annamay McNally, Jenny Lee, Gail Walker, Martin Breen, Ronan McSherry, Ian Greer, Kerry McKittrick, Laura McMullan, Cliodhna Fullen, Annette Kelly, Joanne Savage and Gillian McDade.

  To the booksellers across Ireland and the UK, thanks so much for your support with a special thanks to my friends at Sheehy’s in Cookstown, Easons in Belfast, Easons in Craigavon, Co Armagh and Dean & Tom at Kenny’s in Galway.

  Thanks to Keith Acheson at Belfast Book Festival for giving me a platform to read from my work and also to Arts Council of Northern Ireland (Gilly Campbell, Damian Smyth and Angela Warren in particular) for financial support in recent years.

  Thanks to Catriona Corrigan at Divine Photography and Eadoina McHugh at In Haus Make Up for the fantastic promo photos! You really did make me look fab at 40!

  To all my family and friends in Donaghmore and beyond, thanks for your continued support in my career as an author especially my cousins Kathie & Brenda, my sisters Vanessa, Rachel, Lynne, Rebecca, Niamh, my brother David and of course daddy cool himself, Hugh.

  Finally, huge thanks and big, big love to my children Jordyn, Jade, Adam, Dualta and Sonny James for allowing me the time and space to write and for just being the best kids in the world ever.I love you all so much x

  And to my partner Jim McKee, thanks for listening, for reading, for all the road-trips, celebrations, encouragement, hugs, mopping up of tears when the going got tough, for believing in me and for loving The Legacy of Lucy Harte as much as I do. I love you pa x

  #donatelife

  About Emma Heatherington

  Emma Heatherington is from Donaghmore, Co Tyrone where she lives with her children - Jordyn, Jade, Dualta, Adam and baby Sonny James. She has penned more than thirty short films, plays and musicals as well as seven novels for Poolbeg Press, two of which were written under the pseudonym Emma Louise Jordan.

  Her latest signing with HarperImpulse (HarperCollins) saw the re-release of Crazy For You in 2013.

  Emma loves spending time with her partner (the talented artist and singer/songwriter Jim McKee) all things Nashville, romantic comedy movies, singalong nights with friends and family, red wine, musical theatre, new pyjamas, fresh clean bedclothes, long bubble baths and cosy nights in by the fire.

  Find Emma on Twitter @emmalou13 or on Facebook at emmaheathe‌ringtonwriter.

  About HarperImpulse

  HarperImpulse is an exciting new range of romance fiction brought to you from the women’s fiction team at HarperCollins. Our aim is to break new talent from debut authors and import the hottest trends from the US, bringing you the very best in romance. Whether that is through short reads for your mobile phone or epic sagas that span the generations we want to proudly publish romance fiction that gets everybody talking.

  Romance readers, come and meet the team at our website www.harperimpu‌lseromance.com, our Facebook page www.facebook.com/HarperImpulse or follow us @HarperImpulse!

  Writers, we are simply looking for good stories! So, what are you waiting for? To submit, e-mail us at romance@harpercollins.co.uk.

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