This starts off when Kathy hears Tommy screaming and finds him flailing in the field at the end of the novel. I hope you enjoy! I am in no way associated with Kazuo Ishiguro, this is a fan-made story.
When we last pulled apart, he muttered: "I'm really sorry, Kath." Then he gave a shaky laugh and added: "Good job there weren't cows in the field. They'd have got a fright."
I could see he was doing his best to reassure me that everything was all okay now, but his chest was still heaving and his legs shaking. It was then that I felt something wet soaking my clothes. I unwound my arms from around Tommy's neck and raised my hand to my stomach to touch the mysterious liquid. It was dark and I couldn't see so well, and had to squint my eyes and raised my hand to my face. My hand smelled of iron, and I could see red on my palm.
"Tommy! You're bleeding!" I cried, grabbing the hem of his shirt and yanking it up over his head. The stitches on his stomach from one of his donations had come apart from his flailing, and the blood was dripping and staining his jeans.
"B-bollocks!" He yelled, "Jesus Christ!"
"Just calm down and stop moving, you idiot! Lay down!" I yelled, and he obliged. I took his shirt and wrapped it around his wound. Being a carer, I knew how to take care of a donation gone wrong, but a shirt surely wasn't going to be enough to keep Tommy alive for the entire car ride back to the hospital.
"Come on, Tommy," I said, standing up and giving him my hand.
"Wh-Where are we going...?" He said, weakly taking my hand and standing.
"See those lights over there? I'm sure it's a village, we can get help there. Come on, give me your arm and I'll help you walk."
"Hey, I'm not that weak," He tried to assure me, but I could see that he was having trouble standing. Maybe it was because of the shock, or because of the blood loss, but he obviously was getting weaker by the minute. We walked toward the village, Tommy leaning against my shoulder for support.
ξ
We reached the village. It was small, but it had a small doctor's office. Tommy collapsed when we got to the first house, and a woman helped me carry him to the doctor. He seemed professional enough, but it was after hours, so I had to work as his 'nurse', as he called it. He stitched Tommy up, and wrapped bandages around his wound. Tommy came to a few hours later.
After we deemed he was fit to leave the room, the woman I was with- Jane, her name was- helped me load him into the car and we drove to her house. The town was small, a couple hundred residents, but it had a market and a school. There was something happy in the dull gray walls of the houses, something tranquil. There was something inside me that wanted to live in one of them with Tommy. To have a family, two kids, a boy and a girl, and maybe a pet dog like I had seen in the shows back at the cottage. Those people never had to worry about donating, they were so happy, and one day they grew up and found love and lived in a home with children and a dog. And when they got old and their children had moved out, they still lived together with a cat. I want to be like that.
Jane parked the car. Her house was surprisingly large considering she was single and didn't have any children. When she said that, it confused me. It had never occurred to me that people could have children and not get married. It also confused me that they could break up after they got married. It didn't make sense to me. Why get married if you weren't going to stay together?
"Kathy?" Jane's voice snapped me out of my daydream.
"Yes?" I replied.
"Are you going to help me lift Tommy out of the car?"
Tommy chimed in: "I'm not that weak, I can walk!"
"Oh, hush, Tommy! Don't be so rude!"
Jane chuckled, "Don't worry. It's nice to have company," she said. After Tommy, Jane and I were in the house, Tommy went up to the spare bedroom to sleep, and Jane and I sat down and talked. She made tea, and we chatted about our lives.
I told her that I was a housewife, and that Tommy was my husband, and we were out of work. She seemed nice, I didn't want to tell her that I was a clone and I worked as a carer that took care of other clones who have donated their vital organs. She might think me queer.
"So, Kathy, where are you planning to go after Tommy has recovered?" She asked. The question took me by surprise.
"I'm not sure. We'll go back home, I suppose."
"You said that you were going to default on your mortgage," she said. I had heard that from a show when the couple was going to leave there home, so it seemed appropriate to say, considering my position. She continued, "You're welcome to stay with me."
I paused. "Stay with you?"
"Yes. It's nice to have company. You and your husband can stay with me, if you want."
I smiled a bit, "I'll talk to Tommy about it. That's really kind of you."
She smiled, "I get lonely."
ξ
It had been a few months since Tommy and I moved in with Jane. It was nice, there were no worries, Tommy had recovered and was working at the market in town, and I was working at the school as an Art teacher. Tommy and I had settled on not going back to the hospital, although it had been a pretty monumental decision for us. We had never even considered running away. But, we couldn't get a deferral, and Tommy was going to have had his fourth donation soon. We remembered what Miss Emily had said. Underneath her words, there was something else. Something in her voice was hinting to us that we still had a chance. Even though we couldn't get a deferral, we could still live together.
We settled on staying here with Jane. I felt bad about being a drain to her income, so that's why we both got jobs. It was nice, and we could afford to live comfortably. It seemed like nothing could get better.
Then, late on a Saturday evening, we received news. I was sitting on the couch, watching TV.
"Tommy! There's mail for you and Kathy!" Jane called to Tommy, who was in the bedroom working on one of his animal drawings.
Tommy burst through the door, "Mail? For us? From whom?"
"It doesn't say. It just says it's for you."
He nodded, and shakily took the letter. I think he was dreading the same thing I was.
"Kathy, maybe we should open this in private," he said.
I nodded and followed him to our bedroom. We both stared at the cream-colored letter in our hands, the front of it saying only our address and, in large, bold print, our names.
"Open it..." I mumbled. He tore to top off, not bothering to be gentle. We both knew what it contained.
He read it aloud, "Dear Kathy H. and Tommy D.,
This letter is to inform Tommy D. of his fourth donation, which is to take place next month of this year. Also, Kathy H. shall begin her first donation at the same time. Please return to Norfolk hospital within one week, or we will be forced to retrieve you ourselves. Thank you."
