Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #20 November 2015 | Page 27
still grinning and holding it close as her mother came
to pick her up, and waved it at Christopher happily
from the car as he watched them drive off.
***
“She’s been trying to avoid veggies lately so
keep an eye on her while she eats, don’t just go buy
a takeaway like you usually do. She’s waking up in
the night now and then, but goes back to sleep pretty
quickly once you talk to her.”
“I know, Claire.”
“Her bedtime is seven, strictly seven. Don’t let
her convince you otherwise.”
“Claire.”
“And she’ll try to convince you she’s cleaned
her teeth when she hasn’t, so you need to– ”
“Claire, she was here two weeks ago. I haven’t
forgotten, just like I hadn’t forgotten when you told
me all this last time.”
Claire scowled and adjusted her glasses.
“I’m just making sure. She’s still carrying that
awful box around with her, what on earth made you
think that was a good idea?”
Christopher smirked at Claire’s jealously.
“It’s just a box, Claire.”
She huffed, walked over to Emily who was
staring at the television, and kissed her hair.
“I’ll be back on Monday, sweetie. If you want
to come home just tell Daddy and he’ll drive you
back.”
Emily nodded without looking at her. With a
red face, Christopher ushered Claire out of his house.
He slammed the door loudly before Claire could
complain, then sighed loudly against it, counting to
ten.
He walked slowly back to the living room,
and stood in the doorway with a smile as he watched
Emily bounce a wooden figure, no bigger than one of
his fingers, across the lid of her flowery wooden box.
The figure seemed to be a young girl with a
bright pink painted dress and gold threads for hair.
“That’s a pretty girl, Em. Did Mummy get
it for you? Do you want Daddy to get you one to
match?”
Emily shook her head, little brown ponytail
swaying behind her.
“Uncle Jack gave it to me.”
Christopher drew in a sharp breath. How could
Claire introduce Emily to someone without running
it by him? She hadn’t even told him she was seeing
someone. What was her problem?
“Who’s Uncle Jack, baby?”
“He lives in the box.”
“What box?”
Emily turned to him and smiled, then held out
her flowery treasure.
“In this box, silly.”
Emily had never had an imaginary friend
before, had never even spoken to her stuffed toys.
The whole situation seemed out of character, but with
only a “I’m sure it’s fine” text from Claire, he was
left to tread the unfamiliar waters himself. Should he
encourage it? He didn’t like the idea. She was already
seven, what if she started talking about it at school?
Wouldn’t the other children laugh? Besides, toys don’t
appear from nowhere, and there had been nothing in
that box when he had handed it to her.
Christopher stood beside his daughter as she
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