The Imaginary by A. F. Harrold

with this conversation. He had the sudden feeling there were two conversations going on, side by side.
    â€˜Who are you talking about?’ he asked the dog.
    â€˜Elizabeth Downbeat,’ the dog replied, knocking a book off the shelf behind him with a wag of his tail. ‘My Lizzie.’
    â€˜Oh,’ said Rudger. ‘Who’s she?’
    â€˜She was my first friend. She imagined me. Long time ago now. Long ago.’
    â€˜But what’s this got to do with me?’ Rudger asked.
    â€˜I heard your friend was my one’s daughter.’
    â€˜No, there must be some mistake. My…friend…is called Amanda. Amanda Shuffleup.’
    â€˜Yes, your Amanda is my Lizzie’s daughter.’
    Rudger scratched the dog behind the ear while he took this in.
    â€˜All I want to know,’ the dog said, ‘is…well, is she happy? Did she grow up to be happy?’
    â€˜I think so,’ Rudger said. ‘She’s busy with her work at the computer a lot of the time, but she still takes us to the park and swimming, and while the computer’s thinking, she makes wonderful cakes. You should smell them! And she laughs at all the things Amanda does, even the stupid things. I see her smile sometimes, when Amanda’s not looking. And then when we’re supposed to be asleep I sometimes hear her laughing on the telephone, or at the telly. I’ve not seen many grownups, but I think she’s a happy one. I mean she does get a bit annoyed with Amanda sometimes . But I don’t think she’s unhappy. Well, not until—’
    â€˜Did she…?’ said the dog, interrupting Rudger before he could finish the sentence he was pleased to not have to finish.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜Did she ever…mention…me?’
    â€˜Um…’
    â€˜Fridge.’
    â€˜Pardon?’
    â€˜My name’s Fridge. In case that helps. I mean she probably didn’t say, “Oh, I wish that big old imaginary dog of mine was here right now,” but you might’ve heard her say, “I miss Fridge”, you know, just sometimes. And you wouldn’t have known what it meant, would you?’
    The dog had such big pleading eyes that Rudger didn’t want to let him down. He racked his brains to try to remember what Amanda’s mum had said. It was hard, partly because she’d said a lot of things, but partly also because thinking about her made him think of Amanda and of the things he’d love to hear her say.
    Then he thought of something. ‘I don’t know if it means anything,’ he said, ‘but she named a cupboard after you, in her kitchen. The cold one where she keeps the milk.’
    â€˜ Oh!’ said Fridge, the dog.
    This seemed to make him happy.

    The next morning Rudger stood in front of the notice board and looked at the different faces that were on offer. There were two dozen of them, staring out from their photographs. How should he choose? Which one would be the key to take him home? Which kid would lead Rudger to the hospital, would help him find Amanda? How would it work?
    Emily had said, cryptically, ‘You just know.’
    Fridge was curled up asleep there, as usual, waiting. As Rudger looked at the pictures he heard the old dog yawn.
    â€˜Oh, Rudger,’ he said. ‘Is it morning already?’
    â€˜Yep,’ said Rudger, a little annoyed at being interrupted in his important task, but also happy to have someone to talk to. ‘How do you do this?’
    â€˜Choose?’ Fridge said.
    â€˜Yeah.’
    â€˜Don’t think too hard.’
    Rudger tried not to think.
    â€˜Why haven’t you picked one?’ he asked. ‘You’ve been here for ages, Emily said, trying to pick.’
    â€˜I’m old, Rudger,’ said Fridge, with another yawn. ‘I’ve picked lots. Now I’m just waiting for my last job. One more, then I’ll be ready to Fade.’
    â€˜