Free Red by Libby Gleeson

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    They were back in the chaos. The station was swarming with people. Adults with anxious faces clutched the hands of children who ran to keep up. A constant stream of double buses pulled up, each spewing dozens of new arrivals onto the footpaths. Salvation Army officers handed out free coffee and sandwiches. Men in uniforms with loudhailers shouted at the crowd. ‘If you’re heading north take platform one, south take platform four.’
    â€˜Melbourne?’ said Red as she, Peri and Jazz put their hands out for sandwiches and drinks.
    â€˜South.’
    She turned to Jazz as they headed towards the platform. ‘Are there always this many people here?’
    â€˜No. I’ve never seen it like this. Must be everyone just wanting to get out and away from Sydney.’
    Red nodded. Jazz’s house was cool and calm but it was a world away from what was going on in the city and the destruction near the beaches. It felt weirdly good to be out in it again.
    They found the right carriage and swung their bags up onto the racks over their heads.
    A young woman was there ahead of them, her thin body pressed against the corner beside the window. Her eyes were red and tired-looking but she smiled at them. ‘You escaping the mess too?’
    â€˜Sure are,’ said Peri.
    â€˜Where are you going?’ Jazz sat down next to the stranger. ‘I’m Jazz and that’s Peri and Red.’
    â€˜Kate. I’m off to Wagga. It’s where my mum lives. I can’t wait to get there. I just feel like a bit of Mum care.
    You know, ask no questions, just put you to bed with a hot-water bottle or a bowl of soup.’
    â€˜Were you in the big mess, then?’ said Peri.
    She nodded. ‘Up on the Northern Beaches.’ She began to cry. The tears trickling over her cheeks took with them smears of black mascara. ‘My friend and I …we’ve lost everything … our cats, birds, garden …’ She took a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose. ‘Our house was knocked down. It’s completely gone. In a funny way we were lucky. We were having dinner with some friends in another suburb, away from it all or at least from the worst of it. They reckon that the whole peninsula is wrecked. He’s stayed down to help in the clean-up.’
    â€˜But you’re both alive,’ said Peri.
    She nodded. ‘A bit battered and bruised. And God I feel filthy.’ She ran her hand through long, stringy black hair. ‘What happened to you?’
    â€˜Pretty much the same. We’re going to our uncle’s place in Melbourne. We’re all cousins and our parents are staying back to clean up, like your friend.’
    While they were speaking, Red sat with her eyes pressed tightly closed. Did her mum ever tuck her into bed with a hot-water bottle and a bowl of soup? And her dad? Jazz said he made birthday cakes, special fancy ones. Did he make soup too when it was cold? She felt her stomach tighten, felt a wave of sharp, consuming fear wash over her. She jumped up and pushed her way to the end of the carriage. Her hands were trembling, then her whole body was shaking. Why? She leant against the carriage wall. Gradually the even rhythm of the train steadied and then calmed her. She took long, slow breaths and then made her way back to her seat.
    â€˜What’s up with you?’ said Jazz.
    â€˜Nothing.’
    â€¢ • • • •
    The train was speeding its way first through red-brick suburbs and then kilometre after kilometre of highrise apartments in slabs of dull grey concrete.
    â€˜Have you ever been out this way?’ Jazz said to Peri as they reached the edge of the city.
    He nodded and was about to say something when her phone rang. She took it out of her pocket and looked at the others. Both Peri and Red shook their heads. Jazz read the name on the screen. ‘It’s Mum,’ she whispered.
    â€˜Don’t answer it.’ Peri