She had heard her mother talking to Aunty Lucy, a throwaway remark. They were in the garden, it was her tenth birthday party.

‘Of course poor Arabella has no imagination whatsoever.’

They were watching her younger sister Anastatia organize Arabella’s friends in some kind of fantasy adventure. Anastasia was playing the bold princess while Arabella was supposed to be a peasant girl hiding from the dragon and destined to be eaten.

‘Anastasia’s just like you were at that age’ said Aunty Lucy to Arabella’s mother. ‘We always knew you would be on the stage or become a writer.’

‘Or both’ twittered her mother.

‘I expect Arabella will take after Justin’ said Lucy unconvincingly.

The girls’ father was an artist, successful in several fields from high class book illustrations and theatre designs to proper paintings that people wanted on the walls of their homes.

‘She’s very good with her hands,’ continued Lucy ‘knitting and that little tapestry she made me.’

‘Well she has a logical mind, just following patterns…’

Thirty year old Arabella closed her eyes on the memory, closed her eyes to the television screen, then opened them long enough to press the off button on the remote control. It was Jack, her husband, who had reminded her that her mother and sister were appearing on yet another intellectual arts programme. Her family were always on television or radio, though not often together.

‘Have I missed it?’ Jack came bowling into the room.

‘No, or rather you haven’t missed much.’

She picked up her comforting knitting.

‘Is the baby asleep?’

‘Yes of course.’ Arabella laughed. ‘Just like me apparently, my mother used to say I slept through the night from two months old, always needed my sleep, then it was a shock when they had Anastasia. Mother reassured herself that the sleepless nights were because Anastasia had an overactive brain, highly intelligent.’

‘I am glad we have our ordinary little chap, heaven forbid he should turn out like your sister. I like our serene life and I am lucky to have you both.’

It was true thought Arabella, they were happy in their own little world and would snuggle up with a nice nature programme tonight, then turn over in time for Big Ben and welcome 2025. No wishes or resolutions, just thankful for what they had. Though as the bells chimed she couldn’t help wishing she had a little bit of imagination, just enough to know what it was like. Perhaps she would invent bedroom scenarios for her and Jack, she had read in magazines that couples did that. Or make up stories to tell the baby later on.

The next day they went to the big park for their traditional New Year’s Day walk, the baby safely strapped to Arabella and cosy inside her coat. A young child on a scooter whizzed by and she suddenly had a picture in her mind of the child hurtling off, hitting the bitumen head first and being attacked by the big dog she had just spotted. No sooner had this thought entered her mind than Jack suddenly bolted ahead, telling her to stay put.

A small crowd hid what was happening from Arabella’s view. Then Jack emerged with a firm grip on the dog’s collar. Several worried adults were rushing over, it was hard to tell who belonged to the child and who to the dog, until Jack handed the dog to someone waving a lead. He trotted back to his own family.

‘The poor grandparents couldn’t keep up with her…’

‘.. and she ran into the dog and fell off and seeing the creature lying on the ground revived the dog’s ancient hunting instincts and he went for her throat? And you’re a hero.’ Arabella concluded.

‘Not exactly, the dog was licking her face and she was crying because she hurt her knee.’

On the way home they passed the New Year fairground at the other end of the park. They looked up at the big rides.

‘Be a while before we take our chap on those rides’ said Jack.

‘Thank goodness, imagine if the big wheel got stuck when we were at the top’ said Arabella.

‘I’m sure the council makes sure all the rides are safe.’

‘I still wouldn’t take the chance.’

When they watched the local news that evening the fairground appeared on the screen.

Fire rescue teams were called when the big wheel stopped and could not be started. In view of the below zero temperatures, the difficult decision was taken to bring people down from the top on the fire ladders.

‘Oh I can’ t believe it, just what I imagined happening’ said Arabella.

Arabella was beginning to wonder if she had been granted imagination, was this what it was like, making things happen. She dismissed the thoughts from her mind.

The next day was an outing to the pantomime with Jack’s sister and family. Arabella thought the baby was a bit young, but had been reassured that it was a special calm performance for autistic children like Jack’s nephew or deaf children, or anybody that didn’t like screaming and shouting on stage or off.

‘Sign language, subtitles and miming, the baby will just sleep through it. We’re at the back of the top circle apparently, in case we do have to take the baby out.’

Arabella had not realised just how high up they would be in the top circle.

‘Thank goodness we’re at the back, I wouldn’t like to be in the front row and those steps down are so steep, if you weren’t careful you could go hurtling over.’

As soon as her words were uttered a small child flashed by running and whooping down the steps, ignoring his frantic mother who was yelling at him to stop. There was a collective gasp from others getting settled in their seats. Luckily the child was shorter than the barrier wall and collided with it, but the momentum his mother had picked up propelled her straight over. Any hope of calm had evaporated.