It was like when you make a move in chess and just as you take your finger off the piece, you see the mistake you’ve made, and there’s this panic because you don’t know yet the scale of disaster you’ve left yourself open to.
—  Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go
8

My name is Kathy H. I’m 28 years old. I’ve been a carer for nine years. And I’m good at my job. My patients always do better than expected, and are hardly ever classified as agitated, even if they’re about to make a donation. I’m not trying to boast, but I feel a great sense of pride in what we do. Carers and donors have achieved so much. That said, we aren’t machines. In the end it wears you down. I suppose that’s why I now spend most of my time not looking forwards, but looking back, to The Cottages and Hailsham, and what happened to us there. Me. Tommy. And Ruth.

I wanted to be yours, I wanted to be the girl you went to when things were hard and you needed a shoulder to cry on. I wanted to be the one by your side each day, I wanted to hold your hand and never let go. When your world crumbled down I wanted to be the one to help you rebuild it, and rebuild it better than before. Didn’t you see? I wanted you, I wanted you so badly. I saw you and it killed me that I wasn’t yours, because I knew I was what you needed. I wanted to be with you, forever, with no one stopping us. I wanted you.

And I got you

—  Me to you