All night long the house groaned and shuddered. It felt like its sinews were being stretched to breaking. Leo woke in a panic, not knowing where he was, and Natalie wrapped her arms around him. ‘It’s all right. It’s just Rūaumoko, but he’s not really angry. We’re safe. I promise.’

Matt looked like he was in pain. I stretched out a foot to touch his shoulder. ‘Want some drugs?’ I should have thought of that earlier – but he could have asked too.

He turned his head to whisper, ‘What you got?’

‘Codeine. If I can find it.’

‘Find it.’

It was where everything else was by now, on the floor. The doors on the bathroom cabinet were swinging gently. I left them open – nothing left in there now.

Matt chugged down a couple of tablets. ‘Lyla, also known as Girl Friday.’ From Matt, that was a heartfelt thank you.

You go kind of numb after a while, at least I did. My mind sort of shut down – nothing going on, nobody home. It was easier that way.

I might have gone to sleep, because I got the mother of all frights when Blake started pushing and shoving. ‘Hear that? It’s a car. Come on, Lyla – let me up, will you!’

I didn’t need telling twice. We leapt over bodies and raced for the front door. Blake snatched up a torch. We got that door open in record time and hurtled outside.

I couldn’t make sense of what I was seeing. Ghostly figures in the dark. A big truck – an army truck?

‘Blake! Lyla!’ Then Mum was running. We all crashed together in a massive, blubbery hug.

I kept saying, ‘You’re still alive! You’re okay? Dad? Have you heard from Dad?’

She shook her head. ‘He’ll be doing triage at the hospital. Don’t worry, Lyla. He’s fine, I’m sure he is.’

But she didn’t know for sure.

We shut the door as much as we could and I only noticed the two extra people when we were back inside. Mum introduced them. ‘Karen and Winston. Doctors from Australia. Dead tired.’

Marlene half sat up. ‘Good to see you, Clemmie. Welcome to the Ireland Street Marae.’

‘September all over again,’ Mum said through a massive yawn.

I offered tea and food but they didn’t want anything except sleep. ‘People have been bringing us stuff – cakes, pies, muffins. Coffee.’

Somehow, the Aussie doctors found space to lie down. Matt gave up his mattress. ‘I’m good at sleeping – can do it anywhere.’

Blake and I followed Mum to her room and watched her fall onto her bed – I don’t think she even noticed the mattress wasn’t there, just like the duvet and pillows weren’t. She was wearing overalls and a fluoro jacket, both too big for her. She still had my shoes on. The sight of them reminded me of the grandparents, all four of them waiting to hear Mum and Dad were okay.

I groaned, and whispered to Blake, ‘Gotta ring the grands.’ No need to whisper, though – a cannon blasting off wouldn’t have woken Mum.

In the end, I just rang the Wellington grands and whispered into the phone, ‘Mum’s home, but Dad’s not.

Mum says he’s probably working at the hospital, but can you ring Grandy and Nana Lilith? I’m too tired.’ But it wasn’t that. I didn’t want to be the one to tell Dad’s parents that we didn’t know if he was still alive.

Blake had taken the shoes off Mum when I got back. He’d pulled the emergency sleeping bags from the wardrobe, and we tucked one around our mother’s grubby-but-alive body. Dad’s sleeping bag lay on the bed ready for him if he turned up before morning.

It was the floor for us. I raided the wardrobe for pillow substitutes. Blake was happy with a rolled-up fleece of Dad’s. I used Mum’s fluffy dressing-gown.

Mum hadn’t been killed. Dad was probably alive – he would be, he definitely would be still alive.

Morning happened before I was ready for it. It turned out you couldn’t keep an emergency response worker in bed when there were people to help. Mum was up and rattling around far too early.

I opened my eyes. ‘Dad? Has he texted?’

Mum shook her head. ‘No, but texts aren’t getting through yet. Don’t worry, darling. They’ve called on all medical staff to go to the hospital if they possibly can. You know Dad – that’s where he’ll be.’

I burst into tears. ‘Sorry, sorry. I’m just so scared! I saw all that stuff in town and there were dead people and blood and there’s people stuck in that building and…’

My mother hugged me until I stopped crying. ‘Sorry.’

‘Shh,’ she said. ‘Nothing to be sorry about. I’m sorry you had to see such terrible sights. Were Katie and Shona with you? Are they okay?’

I shivered. ‘They were, but I can’t get hold of either of them now. Shona was worried about Greer too because Tuesday’s her cleaning day and she didn’t know where she’d be. I don’t know about Joanne, either.’

Mum stroked my head. ‘It could just be that Shona and Katie’s families have had to relocate. The damage and liquefaction are terrible over in Dallington, and it’s pretty bad in streets near the Avon.’

That made me feel marginally more hopeful, but I couldn’t bear to tell her Joanne had been in town, possibly in a multistorey building.

Mum tipped my chin up so that she could drill me with her Mother-Gaze. ‘Honey, I should go back to work. But tell me the truth – will you be okay or will you worry yourself sick about Dad?’

I tried to smile. Epic fail. ‘I’ll be okay. Leo and Henry are good distractions. Matt’s here too, don’t forget.’

She looked uncertain but turned to Blake. ‘What about you, Blake? What’s happening with the army?’

She meant the Student Volunteer Army that got set up via Facebook to help after the September quake. Blake had joined thousands of other students armed with shovels and wheelbarrows to dig liquefaction out of houses and streets. By the sound of it, all the liquefaction they’d dug out was back.

Blake actually sat up. ‘Dunno yet. But I’ll go if things are up and running.’

‘Mum, those doctors you brought with you last night – are they on holiday?’

She gave up trying to make her hair look halfway decent. ‘No, they were here for a conference. Karen’s from Adelaide. Winston’s a Tasmanian.’

I thought back to yesterday. The woman who’d tended to Ian in Latimer Square had an Aussie accent. ‘Are they emergency doctors?’ It seemed too good to be true.

Mum gave a bit of a grin. ‘Not so much. They’re urology surgeons. There’s a bunch of them here for a conference.’

Blake patted my head. ‘Urology, my innocent little sister, is human plumbing. Wees and associated organs.’

Huh? ‘But…how would they know about triaging injured people?’ You wouldn’t meet any injuries being a wees doctor. I didn’t think so, anyway.

Mum changed the subject. ‘Lyla, do you want to go to Wellington? The grandparents would love to have you.’

I knew that was true. ‘No. I want to stay here. I want to help.’

‘Not with the Student Army,’ Blake said. ‘I’m not babysitting you, so don’t even think about it.’

That wasn’t worth wasting words on, but in any case Mum agreed. ‘No to the army, Lyla.’ She held up a shushing-type hand. ‘Not because you’d need looking after, but you are only thirteen and they’ll be doing extremely heavy and exhausting work. There’s plenty to do round here if you want to help.’

‘I can do it! And I’m nearly fourteen. My birthday’s next month, just in case you’ve forgotten.’

‘The students are older than you. Yes, I know – some high-school kids were among them, but you’re not going to be one of them.’

I opened my mouth, then shut it. Mum was tired, and there were new lines on her face. Don’t add to the stress, Lyla. I wanted to say it’d keep me from worrying myself sick about Dad, but I managed not to.

‘All right, I’ll stay here. I don’t want to, but I’ll do it.’

Her whole body relaxed and tears came to her eyes. I got hugged. I felt like a noble martyr until Blake said, ‘You’re not strong enough to man a shovel anyway.’

I still didn’t bother wasting words on him.

We went out to join our refugees in the lounge. Everyone was up off the floor. The mattresses were stacked in a corner with Henry, Leo and the Chan kids using them as a trampoline. We followed the scent of food floating in from the barbecue.

The Aussie doctors were out there looking tired, hands wrapped around steaming mugs. Matt was sitting on a cushion from the sofa. A large crack ran from the roofline of the wall he was leaning against and disappeared behind his back. His ankle was neatly bandaged. Dad’s industrial-sized first-aid kit was beside him. ‘Sprained, not broken,’ he said when he saw me looking.

Silent questions zapped between Marlene, Natalie and Mum; a tipping of the head plus raised eyebrows meant any news of Geoff?

Mum’s quick headshake said far more to me than just no.

I had to do something, find a distraction. I went to see if Marlene needed help at the barbecue. She grinned at me. ‘Fancy pita bread for breakfast, Lyla? Fillings over there.’ She waved her spatula at a heaped plate of bacon, tomatoes, sliced pizza and potato fries. I filled three pitas for Matt, one each for the little boys and forced one down my own throat, but only because I knew Mum’s eagle eyes were watching me.

When she saw I was eating, she turned to Marlene. ‘Where’s Robert?’

‘Getting what he can out of our house. He’s borrowed Geoff’s gumboots.’ She whacked the spatula down against the hot plate. ‘I wish I could stay and help, but with the kids it’s just not practical.’

The radio was on. There was an announcement about the Student Army. Basically it said don’t come until tomorrow. Blake shrugged. ‘Fine. I’ll check on a couple of mates. Might stay at theirs tonight. They’ve probably got water.’

Water. Showers. Envy.

Useless to think about it. I longed to ask the doctors about yesterday, about who they’d helped – but there would have been people they couldn’t help. I kept my mouth shut.

I’d find some way to help, and it wasn’t going to be just hanging around home looking after Leo and Henry. Mum was out there making a real difference. Tomorrow, Blake would be too. I hoped that was what Dad was doing right now.