Dead Tomorrow

for Caitlin.
    She could remember that first day so well. The musty smells, the cobwebs, the rotting timbers, the ancient range in the kitchen. The view to die for out across the softly rolling South Downs. Mal putting his strong arm around her shoulders and squeezing her, discussing all the things he could do himself to fix it up, with her help. A big project, but their project. Their home . Their piece of paradise.
    And she could imagine, standing there then, what it would be like in winter, the sharp cold smells, the burningfirewood, rotting leaves, wet grass. The place felt so safe, so secure.
    Yes. Yes. Yes.
    Every time Caitlin brought it up, it made her sad. And it made her even sadder that still, over seven years after they had moved out, when Caitlin was just eight, she referred to Winter Cottage–and in particular its little Wendy house–as her home . And not the house they lived in now. That hurt.
    But she could understand. Those eight years at Winter Cottage were Caitlin’s healthy years. The time in her life that she had been carefree. Her illness had begun a year later, and at the time Lynn had wondered whether the stress of seeing her parents’ marriage break up had been a contributing factor. She always would.
    They were passing the IKEA chimneys again. Lynn was starting to feel they were becoming a symbol in her life. Or some kind of new marker posts. Old, normal life south of those chimney stacks. New, strange, unknown, reborn life north of them.
    On the CD, Justin Timberlake began singing ‘What Goes Around Comes Around’.
    ‘Hey, Mum,’ Caitlin said, suddenly sounding as if she was perking up. ‘Do you think that’s the case, you know, what he’s singing, right?’
    ‘How do you mean?’
    ‘What goes around, comes around. Do you believe in that?’
    ‘You mean do I believe in karma?’
    Caitlin thought for some moments. ‘I’m saying, like, I’m taking advantage of someone who’s died. Is that right?’
    Someone who had died in a motorcycle accident, Lynnhad been told by the hospital, but she had not given that detail to Caitlin, and did not want to, fearing it would distress her. ‘Maybe you need to take a different perspective. Perhaps that person has loved ones who will get comfort from knowing that some good will come out of their loss.’
    ‘It’s just so weird, isn’t it? That we don’t, like, even know who it is. Do you think I could ever–meet–the family?’
    ‘Would you want to?’
    Caitlin was silent for a while, then she said, ‘Maybe. I don’t know.’
    They drove on in silence again for a couple of minutes.
    ‘You know what Luke said?’
    Lynn had to take a deep breath to restrain herself from retorting, No, and I don’t want to know what that sodding moron said . Through gritted teeth, sounding a lot more cheery and interested than she felt, she replied, ‘Tell me.’
    ‘Well, he said that some people who have transplants inherit stuff from the donors. Characteristics–or changes in their tastes. So, if the donor had a craving for Mars Bars, you might get that. Or liked a particular kind of music. Or was good at football. Sort of from their genes.’
    ‘Where did Luke get that gem from?’
    ‘The Internet. There’s loads of sites. We looked at some of them. You can inherit their dislikes too!’
    ‘Really?’ Suddenly Lynn perked up. Maybe this liver would come from someone who disliked dickheads with stupid hair.
    ‘There are verified case histories,’ Caitlin said, brightening up even more. ‘There are, really! OK, right, you know I’m frightened of heights?’
    ‘Uh huh.’
    ‘Well, there’s this woman I read about in America whowas terrified of heights, and she had a transplant and got the lungs of a mountain climber, and now she’s a fanatical climber!’
    ‘You don’t think that was simply because she felt better, having lungs that worked properly?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘It sounds amazing,’ Lynn said, not wanting to appear sceptical, and keen to keep her daughter’s enthusiasm up.
    ‘And there’s this one, right, Mum? There was a man in Los Angeles who received a woman’s heart, and before he hated shopping–and now he wants to go shopping all the time!’
    Lynn grinned. ‘So, what characteristic would you most like to inherit?’
    ‘Well, I’ve been thinking about this! I’m rubbish at drawing. Maybe I’ll get the liver from someone who was a brilliant artist!’
    Lynn laughed. ‘Yep, there’s all kinds of possible