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he did, his hand went to his hip, unsnapping the hand radio from its place. She wasn’t sure what he was going to do. She didn’t like questions from strangers. Questions from strangers usually meant she had done something wrong, or that her parents were going to get into trouble.

She took a step away from him, her grip on her suitcase tightening.

‘I can call for some help, if you’re lost or something,’ he said, holding up the hand radio as if it was proof that someone was at the other end, waiting to help her.

The platform speakers announced the arrival of the next train. As it pulled into the platform, other passengers who had been huddled further back, trying to stay out of the rain, moved towards it.

‘I’m okay,’ she said and moved too. The guard remained still, watching.

When the doors opened, Agatha got on, walked to the other side of the carriage and sat down, her suitcase between her and the window. The doors closed and as the train pulled slowly away Agatha could see the guard, already heading back along the platform, wiping some of the gathered raindrops from the shoulders of his jacket. Hopefully he had already forgotten about her, she thought, this time with relief.

The rocking motion of the train, the screeching sound of the metal wheels on the metal track didn’t help calm Agatha’s growing sense of dread. The near empty carriage was so unfamiliar to her. Parts of the floor were wet from the rain pouring in when the doors had been opened earlier on its trip. Some of the plastic seats had multi-coloured graffiti and the remains of food packaging, left without regard for the next passengers who came along.

Just as it seemed to be picking up pace, the train started to slow, readying itself to stop at the next station. Again, all the doors opened, this time, no one got on or off Agatha’s carriage. The train didn’t wait for long. The doors closed, and it started up again. Agatha looked out the window. The train track ran along a major road, that was bumper to bumper in one direction, away from the city.

The train whistle blew, but the train didn’t slow down. She jumped when the loud crossing signal lights blasted out their warning to the drivers as the train lurched on.

Again, just as it seemed to be going at full speed, it began to slow to a stop. Agatha ignored the doors this time. She could see this was a small station, because the platform on the other side was just that, a platform with a couple of seats and no shelter.

A woman got onto the carriage, looked in both directions and went away from Agatha. She sat at the far end of the carriage, looked past Agatha and then for a fleeting moment, their eyes met. The woman smiled then looked down at her handbag and took out her phone. She didn’t look up at Agatha again.

As the train rolled on, closer to the city, Agatha watched the backs of houses and buildings slide past. The fences facing her were covered in colourful graffiti, sometimes the houses were close together, other times car parks of shopping centres appeared then disappeared. Agatha caught glimpses into the backyards of houses, many with small gardens, outside dining tables and the occasional lemon tree. Every now and then one flashed past that looked just like hers.

The next few stations passed, and Agatha noticed everything; the slight jerk as the train came to a complete stop, the way other passengers didn’t look at each other, the rain making the dust and grime of the windows somehow even dirtier.

The crackling sound from the speaker, announcing each station, suddenly became louder. Maybe it hadn’t been working properly because of the rain, or maybe they just wanted everyone to realise the train had reached its final destination, Flinders Street, and they were all to get off. Whatever the reason, Agatha picked up her suitcase and alighted from the train and was quickly swept into the stream of hundreds of passengers, hurrying to get home.

Katherine’s note had instructed her to find platform eleven and to look at the departure screen, just like they had done on their day trip. Things felt familiar as she made her way to platform eleven was easily made and she knew the exact screen she needed to look at. The clock on the screen said 7.24pm. In bold neon, the same sign announced that the next train was due to leave in nine minutes. 7.33pm.

The platform began to fill. Agatha wasn’t the only one who would be waiting nine minutes, nor was she the only one who had a suitcase. She wasn’t the only one who the storm had rained upon, or the only one who looked exhausted.

Standing amongst strangers, Agatha smiled.

For once, she thought to herself, standing a little bit taller, I’m normal.

8

Agatha found a seat on the 7.33pm train. This time she had to put her suitcase between her knees as the train was packed and there wasn’t enough room for her suitcase to have its own seat. No one spoke. Some people read a book, some just looked away into space, but most had their heads down, looking at their phones.

Katherine’s note said there could be up to twenty-two stops between the city and Sandy Vale, depending on which train she caught. ‘Just remember to keep your eye on the line map up there on the wall,’ Katherine had said on their one and only train trip together.

It was clear to Agatha now, what that trip had really been about.

At the first couple of stops, hardly anyone got on and a few people left. By the ninth stop the carriage had started to empty, and to Agatha’s relief the man sitting next to her got up and went out through the doors, so she slid over and once again put her suitcase safely between her and the window.

The

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