Early on in Never Let Me Go, Kathy mentions the "donation" process multiple times, both in her present-day narration and in flashbacks to her time at Hailsham. During one such flashback in Chapter 3, Tommy and Kathy discuss Tommy's conversation with Miss Lucy about creativity. Tommy mentions that Miss Lucy does not think they are being "taught enough" about donation, in a moment of dramatic irony:
"[Miss Lucy] said we weren't being taught enough, something like that."
"Taught enough? You mean she thinks we should be studying even harder than we are?"
"No, I don't think she meant that. What she was talking about was, you know, about us. What's going to happen to us one day. Donations and all that."
At this point in the novel, readers are not yet entirely aware of what "donation" entails, nor that the children are human clones. In the above flashback from Chapter 3, however, the reader possesses more information than young Tommy and Kathy. An older version of Kathy, serving as the novel's frame narrator, provides some insight into the donation process at the beginning of Chapter 1:
But these days, of course, there are fewer and fewer donors left who I remember, and so in practice, I haven't been choosing that much.
In both this passage and the passage from Chapter 3, Ishiguro uses language that just barely tips the scale from banal into foreboding. The statement "there are fewer and fewer donors left who I remember" could simply mean that the donors have finished donation and moved on with their lives. The statement could also imply that all donors eventually die during the donation process. In the passage from Chapter 3, Tommy refers to donation as "what's going to happen to us one day"—vague and harmless enough a statement, but with similarly ominous undertones.
While the reader may be unsure of exactly what future awaits "donors," by Chapter 3, Kathy's narration and Ishiguro's word choice imply that donation is a difficult, ominous process. When Tommy and Kathy discuss Miss. Lucy in Chapter 3, then, their optimism (or lack of pessimism) about donation reads as dramatic irony.
Never Let Me Go is a novel almost entirely dependent on foreshadowing. Ishiguro weaves this foreshadowing throughout the plot of the novel, the device less linked to language in one particular scene and more dependent on a general linguistic vagueness. Take the following passage from Chapter 1, for example:
But these days, of course, there are fewer and fewer donors left who I remember, and so in practice, I haven't been choosing that much. As I say, the work gets a lot harder when you don't have that deeper link with the donor, and though I'll miss being a carer, it feels just about right to be finishing at last come the end of the year.
Note that in this passage, Ishiguro uses vague language in Kathy's own description of her present life. She is a "donor," and there are "fewer and fewer donors left"—a statement that does not directly assert, but rather indirectly insinuates the fact that Kathy's fellow donors die when they "finish" donating. Ishiguro uses intentionally vague language to obscure the horrific truth of the donation process, a truth that is gradually revealed over the course of the novel. Viewed in retrospect, these vague passages foreshadow important narrative information that only becomes apparent later in the plot.
Early on in Never Let Me Go, Kathy mentions the "donation" process multiple times, both in her present-day narration and in flashbacks to her time at Hailsham. During one such flashback in Chapter 3, Tommy and Kathy discuss Tommy's conversation with Miss Lucy about creativity. Tommy mentions that Miss Lucy does not think they are being "taught enough" about donation, in a moment of dramatic irony:
"[Miss Lucy] said we weren't being taught enough, something like that."
"Taught enough? You mean she thinks we should be studying even harder than we are?"
"No, I don't think she meant that. What she was talking about was, you know, about us. What's going to happen to us one day. Donations and all that."
At this point in the novel, readers are not yet entirely aware of what "donation" entails, nor that the children are human clones. In the above flashback from Chapter 3, however, the reader possesses more information than young Tommy and Kathy. An older version of Kathy, serving as the novel's frame narrator, provides some insight into the donation process at the beginning of Chapter 1:
But these days, of course, there are fewer and fewer donors left who I remember, and so in practice, I haven't been choosing that much.
In both this passage and the passage from Chapter 3, Ishiguro uses language that just barely tips the scale from banal into foreboding. The statement "there are fewer and fewer donors left who I remember" could simply mean that the donors have finished donation and moved on with their lives. The statement could also imply that all donors eventually die during the donation process. In the passage from Chapter 3, Tommy refers to donation as "what's going to happen to us one day"—vague and harmless enough a statement, but with similarly ominous undertones.
While the reader may be unsure of exactly what future awaits "donors," by Chapter 3, Kathy's narration and Ishiguro's word choice imply that donation is a difficult, ominous process. When Tommy and Kathy discuss Miss. Lucy in Chapter 3, then, their optimism (or lack of pessimism) about donation reads as dramatic irony.
In Chapter 5, Kathy describes a past conversation with Moira. In this conversation, Moira interrogates Kathy, challenging her belief in the rumored plot to kidnap Miss Geraldine. Uncomfortable with questions that upend her escapist fantasy, young Kathy lashes out. In a subsequent passage narrating her youthful feelings, Kathy foreshadows the tragedy of the donation process. She intimates that her childhood discomfort at Moira's challenge stemmed from a fear of the future:
Why was I so hostile to Moira B. that day when she was, really, a natural ally? What it was, I suppose, is that Moira was suggesting she and I cross some line together, and I wasn't prepared for that yet. I think I sensed how beyond that line, there was something harder and darker and I didn't want that. Not for me, not for any of us.
Kathy acknowledges in the above passage that Moira's challenge represented more than a simple dismissal of a childhood tall tale. Kathy's mission to save Miss Geraldine from would-be kidnappers gave fantastical purpose to her young life, fueling her imagination and distracting her from her vague, ominous future as a "donor." Moira's challenge upends Kathy's escapist fantasies, returning her to a traumatic reality. Narrator Kathy foreshadows this eventual future—her present—by referring to young Kathy's knowledge of "something harder and darker" looming on the horizon for Hailsham students.