The Better Way

Her hands were shaking as she picked up the pen. The nurse smiled sympathetically as she watched Lucy sign her name as neatly as she could. The squiggle was entirely illegible, but she supposed they were used to that here. Most people were probably nervous.

“That’s lovely,” the nurse told her. Her tone was as falsely bright as the sterile lighting overhead. “Now, if you’d just like to take a seat in the waiting area just over there. The doctors are a little bit behind with appointments today, but someone will be with you as soon as possible.”

The waiting room looked like the kind of place people came to wait for death, much like any other GP or dentist waiting area. Plastic chairs were neatly arranged in rows and some entrepreneurial do-gooder had splashed out for a fish tank and some goldfish, so even the empty chairs had something to face towards. An old-style radio next to it was playing the Bee Gees, which did nothing to soothe Lucy’s nerves.

It was eleven forty-three and Lucy’s appointment was scheduled for twelve exactly. Patrick always liked to joke that Lucy would be late for her own funeral, but it had been mandatory that all patients arrive at least twenty minutes early to complete the necessary pre-op paperwork. She had done it, but didn’t really understand why. After all, people didn’t just walk in here off the street – there was a number of checks and preliminary meetings involved before you even got to the point of signing up, just to be absolutely sure you knew what was going to happen. The extra time now just seemed unnecessary. Sadistic.

In an attempt to distract herself, Lucy glanced around at the other people who had taken up positions on the plastic chairs. A woman with silvery grey streaks in her otherwise immaculate hair was sat in the corner, muttering quietly to herself. A middle-aged man was pacing off to one side, occasionally taking a seat for a moment by a woman Lucy guessed was his wife, before he got up again to pace once more. A man, possibly in his early thirties, was sat crying silently in a wheelchair at the end of the row in front, but he wasn’t there long before a nurse came to take him away, and there was a man with snow white hair watching the goldfish blankly.

“Ah Nurse O-liv-i-a! You on again today, my lovely?”

Lucy looked up to see a young doctor approaching the reception desk. He leaned over it to wink at the nurse, as if she wasn’t old enough to be his mother. The man was handsome, with extremely white teeth that practically glinted when he smiled. Olivia giggled and handed him a stack of folders.

“Yes, doctor,” the nurse giggled. “And Friday too.”

“Oh fantastic, because I am too,” the doctor purred and he leant closer to whisper something. Whatever it was made the nurse blush deeply and giggle again, a schoolgirl giggle. Satisfied, the doctor turned away to survey the waiting room. For a moment, his eyes met Lucy’s and he winked cheekily at her. It wasn’t remotely reassuring. Lucy’s heart begin to race in anticipation of her name being called, and her stomach backflipped. Silently, she pleaded with God not to let her throw up if she was next.

“Mr Carrowood?”

Not her. Not her! Not her, not her, not her, not her, not her!

Not yet.

At the sound of his name, the man who had been pacing stopped. His face had turned ashen but he looked resolved. He reached out towards his wife, offering her his hand, and they started to follow the doctor together. The lady buried her face in her husband's shoulder, clutching at him tightly.

Lucy was ashamed at how relieved she was that they were leaving. She looked away, looked anywhere for something else to stare at whilst she tried to get control of her palpitations. It had been so difficult to keep her nerves in check getting here, and she was determined not to let her composure slip now. This was necessary, it had to be done. There was no better way. But it didn’t change the way her stomach had dropped when she saw the doctor getting ready to announce a name, or how her hands were trembling now.

“It’s ok to be anxious, pet. The waiting is the worst bit.”

Lucy hadn’t noticed the man, who had been watching the fish before, come over and sit nearby. The corner of his mouth twitched in a half-smile.

“I’m a little nervous too,” he told her. "I brought my second wife here a few years back. Once you’re in the room, it isn’t so bad."

Lucy nodded.

“Try not to worry too much, pet. Think about the good things, it will help you feel better wait. I like to think I’ve had a good run, me. Survived two wars – spent my first deployment in Iraq in 2009 and my last in Iceland in 2022 – outlasted both Coronavirus pandemics, been married twice, four beautiful children and a dozen grandchildren I’ve watched grow... Never believed in doing anything that would leave me with regrets."

It must be nice, Lucy thought, to have no regrets. She couldn’t say she shared the sentiment, but she had known a happy life too. Mostly, anyway. Her daughter, Madeline, sprang to mind most of all. At this time of day, she was probably getting ready for lunchtime and looking forward to being able to race around the playground with her friends. It was five-past twelve after all, very nearly lunchtime for her. It was a reassuring thought.

“Thinking about anything special, pet. You've gone all smiley now."

“Just thinking about my little girl.”

“How old is she?”

“Five – nearly six. It’s her birthday in a few weeks.”

“Ah,” the man said and he smiled, fully this time. “I remember mine at that age – always, ‘why this’ or ‘why that’. They’re so precious and they grow so fast, don't they?"

Lucy nodded and forced smile back. It was nice to think of going home after this. Nice to think of hugging Maddie in a way that wasn't the too-tight way this morning.

“My kids are all grown now. Grown up with lives and families of their own. My second wife passed away a few years ago, so it’s just been me for a while. But that’s alright. The kids are happy living their lives and I’ve enjoyed...”

Just then, the wife who had accompanied Mr Carrowood into his appointment came running out of the examination room and the man broke off. Tears streamed down her face as ran, but Lucy realised they weren't tears of sorrow or fear, they were tears of pure elation.

"Five hundred thousand!" Mrs Carrowood cried. "Five hundred thousand!"

Lucy wasn't the only one who found Mrs Carrowood's outburst alarming. The nurse at the reception desk tutted disapprovingly and the man nearby turned to her.

"Disgusting," he whispered. "Don't you think for one minute there aren't people ready to exploit a place like this, pet. They say not everyone who comes for the operation even needs it..."

Lucy felt her mouth go dry and she looked away from him. She didn't think anyone did this who didn't need it. Suddenly, a nurse appeared and called a new name, this time a Mr Goswami.

"That's me, I'm afraid," the man told her. He got up and offered a hand for her to shake, which she did so silently. She tried not to feel sad to say goodbye - after all, they had only just met. It seemed like she'd known him longer. "Chin up, pet. It won't be as bad as you're thinking. It's definitely the better way."

The 'better way', that's what they called it. She was grateful the man had never asked what it was, what horrible thing it was that was killing her fast enough that she'd opted for this instead. Especially with a little girl in the picture. Most people came with some kind of terminal illness, wanting something better. A choice. That was what TBW Enterprises specialised in. They promised a serene way out, something peaceful and quick. All the pictures she saw were of calm people on comfortable beds, surrounded by their loved ones. She didn't have any loved ones with her but she still hoped she'd be able to feel that calm once she got inside. Now the room was quiet again, she could feel the anxiety and nerves slipping back in.

God, how had it come like this? Until a month ago, she'd never pictured this would be it. She was only twenty-eight for Christ's sake. She should have had more time. She could have been something - famous or smart or special. Any of the things young children are told they can grow up to be. She should have been at home, waiting for her daughter. She shouldn't have been here. But she was. She reminded herself that this was entirely her choice. Because what other choice was there? This wasn't just the better way, it was the only way.

“Ms Otterson?” someone called and Lucy looked up to see the doctor from earlier standing there, finally waiting for her. The man with the pearly white teeth. She slowly stood up, silently praying that her legs would hold as he led her down the hallway and into a clinic room. It was finally her time.

“It’s Lucy Otterson, isn’t it?” he asked. She nodded and he grinned. Had anyone ever told him his teeth were too white? “Excellent. Well, welcome to TBW Enterprises. So sorry for your wait there, sweetheart – people are absolutely dying to get in here!"

If the doctor realised his joke was in bad taste, he showed no hesitation about it.

“So, I see from your chart here that you're in good health. That's not a problem - we don't judge here - but you'll be eligible for our comprehensive donation package. Is that still what you're interested in?”

Again, Lucy nodded.

“Good, good. Now, before we begin, let’s just check your file has everything in order, shall we?” The doctor began flicking through the pages of the folder quickly, not pausing to check anything with her directly. “You’ve signed all your paperwork? Yes, good, good… and you’ve authorised your daughter, Madeline Otterson as your primary beneficiary. Excellent. And you’ve read all the terms and conditions? And passed all your pre-op checks… Ah, good. All the I’s dotted and T’s crossed.”

Satisfied, he looked up and smiled at her, that saccharine smile.

“Perfect. Now, if you could just hop onto the couch for me and then lay back..."

"Sorry, doctor," she interrupted. For a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of irritation cross his features.

"Yes?"

"I just wanted to double-check. So if I can do the full donation, how much will the compensation be?"

"It depends on person to person but the compensation can be as high as a million dollars."

She sighed with relief. A million dollars would solve everything. Even half that much like that man's wife. When her husband Patrick had crashed his car and needed a multitude of surgeries, which ultimately couldn’t save him, she realised too late that he’d stopped paying for their health insurance. The ensuing medical bills were eye-watering and she was in debt to the tune of six figures. Debt collectors were banging on the door and ringing her phone every hour of the day, until she just couldn’t take it any more. It wasn’t what she wanted for Maddie. So she'd chosen the better way instead.

When the doctor realised she wasn't going to ask any further questions, his smile came back.

"Don't worry. I can promise, this will all be finished soon. Now, if you're ready, what I need you to do for me is lie back and look up at the camera for me and repeat after me if you’re happy for the procedure to go ahead… Just at the camera on the ceiling there. That’s right. Now, if you’re happy to go ahead, and only if you’re happy to go ahead, please say I, Lucy Otterson…”

Lucy took a deep breath.

“I, Lucy Otterson.”

“Being of sound mind...”

“Being of sound mind.”

“Freely give my consent to TBW Enterprises...”

“Freely give my consent to TBW Enterprises.”

“To proceed with my donation as already outlined in my contract.”

“To…” Lucy began. Her voice stuck in her throat and she forced a cough to try and free it. “To proceed… with my donation. As already outlined in my contract."

The doctor smiled and proffered the thumbprint scanner. Lucy stared at the little pad, wondering how something so small could seem so ominous.

“It’s ok, Ms Otterson,” he told her. “Once you press your thumb down, the transaction will be completed and the funds will transfer to your beneficiary.”

She nodded then took a deep breath. Slowly, she pressed her thumb down on the pad until the LED on the top of the display changed from red to green. A beep in her pocket told Lucy her phone had a new message but as she went to reach for it restraints snapped tightly around her wrists. As the cold metal gripped her wrists, a second pair of manacles clasped around her feet, rendering her completely unable to move anywhere. Panic set in. This wasn't at all what they promised.

“W-wait!” she shouted. “No, stop! Let me out. This isn’t how the procedure is supposed to go! Please, wait!”

The doctor pulled out her phone and showed her the message displayed on the screen. A little banner told her her bank had registered a $1,000,000 deposit in the trust account she had set up for Maddie, courtesy of TBW Enterprises.

“See, the transfer has gone through already. Now, you don’t have to worry. In a few minutes, this will all be over," he said and dropped her phone on the floor. He crunched it underfoot and she heard the glass smash. She really began to panic. "Don't worry, you won't need this again. On behalf of TBW Enterprises, I would like to thank you for your generous donation today-”

“No, please, WAIT!”

The doctor reached over and grabbed a cloth, which was conveniently placed on the side. He stuffed it into her mouth without ceremony and her screams died around the fabric. All she could hear was the sound of her own whimpers.

“Wait?” the doctor asked, smiling. “Don’t worry, your wait is over. Thank you again, Ms Otterson, for choosing The Better Way. Let's get started, shall we?”