The Little BALLERINA

It seemed that Gran had known her better than she’d thought, but what exactly lay in store for Stella now?

- Maria McAvoy

I thought you might need cheering up.’

Stella smiled at Trish standing in the doorway. She had been at a loose end ever since her gran’s funeral a few weeks before, and had never been so glad to see her best friend.

‘Come in,’ she told Trish, giving her a hug. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’

Trish took her jacket off and hung it up.

‘What’s that?’ she asked, eyeing the object on the coffee table with great interest.

‘Oh, that’s my gran’s old jewellery box,’ Stella told her. ‘There wasn’t much I wanted to keep when we were clearing out her house, but I used to love playing with this when I was little.’

She set their mugs down on the table and opened the scuffed wooden lid to show Trish. Once upon a time the spinning ballerina and the tinkling sound of The Blue Danube had filled her world with magic. But the music hadn’t played in years and the little figure was still now, folded in graceful repose.

‘It doesn’t work?’ asked Trish, picking through Gran’s eclectic collection of costume jewellery.

‘No, it hasn’t for a long time,’ said Stella. She remembered sneaking into her grandparents’ room when she was little and opening the lid really fast, trying to catch the ballerina asleep. She’d never succeeded, of course, though the happy memory always brought a smile.

‘It’s a nice memento,’ said Trish, gently touching her arm. ‘You’re going to miss your gran – and all her matchmaking.’