A heartwarming short story for you to enjoy

This is the last one.” Malcolm struggled down the loft ladder with a large cardboard box. “Thank goodness for that.” Jenny surveyed the spare bedroom and sighed. She and Malcolm wanted to downsize to a bungalow by the sea, but sorting through the possessions they – or she, mostly – had hoarded over the past 30 years was daunting.

She found it impossible to dispose of items such as her daughter’s toys, whereas Malcolm was keen to recycle or rehome. He grunted, dumping the cardboard box on the floor.

“Careful,” Jenny warned at the sound of china.

“What’s in there?”

“I’m not sure. Let’s have a look.” Malcolm pulled it open.

“I’d forgotten I still had that!” Jenny exclaimed, eyeing her late aunt’s dinner service, wrapped in crumpled newspaper.

Malcolm picked up a gold-rimmed, floral-patterned plate.

“Why don’t we use it?”

Jenny shook her head.

“Too fussy.”

“A charity shop, then?” Malcolm asked. Jenny frowned.

“Chloe might like it.”

“You’re kidding!” Malcolm laughed. “Her cupboards are bursting as it is.”

Malcolm was right. Chloe’s city apartment was compact, with no loft or storage space. Jenny took the plate and packed it back in the box.

“I suppose it does deserve to be used rather than being stashed away.”

Malcolm wrote Charity Shop on a sticky label and slapped it on the box. “Right, next.”

He opened a large crate.“i didn’t realise she’d won quite so many!” Malcolm stared at a clutch of gold and silver trophies.

“Well, Chloe was a great dancer and I only displayed the most recent awards. I packed the others away.”

Malcolm picked one up.“scrap metal, maybe?”

“How can you be so heartless?” Jenny cried. “They’re generic, love. It’s not like they’re engraved.”

She grabbed the trophy. “You’ve no heart.”

Malcolm shrugged.

“I just don’t see the point in keeping them all boxed up for years.”

“I’ll text Chloe. She should be the one to decide,” Jenny reasoned. “Fine.” Malcolm sighed.

Chloe called them back. She didn’t want the trophies and agreed with her dad that they should be recycled.

“My teddy’s the most precious thing from my childhood and he doesn’t take up much room.” Jenny smiled.

The teddy she and Malcolm had bought, days after Chloe’s birth, still sat on her bed.“i’m glad I don’t have a loft,” Chloe continued.“it’s unhealthy to have all that stuff above your head. It weighs you down psychologically.”

“Does it?” Jenny asked.

“Yes. And thank goodness for digital storage. Imagine how many photo albums I’d need!”

Later, as Malcolm showered, Jenny stared at the trophies, remembering years of trekking to the dance school twice weekly. She thought of five-year-old Chloe in her tap shoes, practising on the kitchen tiles. Then, at 12, taking her first tentative steps in pointe shoes.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Jenny pulled out a very heavy trophy.

It bore a small rectangular wooden plaque at the bottom of the box.

Chloe Baker, Personality Of The Year Award, 2000. Memories of 10- yearold Chloe winning the award came to mind. She had tap- danced her way on to the stage to receive the award from the principal. It dawned on Jenny that, although Chloe had stopped dancing when she went to university, the confidence, discipline and bubbly personality that those years of lessons had instilled had never left her.

Jenny slipped the plaque to one side. Moments later Malcolm appeared in the doorway, his face flushed from the shower.

“Have you decided?” he asked. “I have.” He watched her place the box on the table.“help me set them out. Large ones at the back.”

Once the table was full of trophies, Jenny took photos with her phone.

“Right,” she said,“now we can recycle them.”

“Really?”

“Chloe thinks it’s a good idea, and now so do I.”

Jenny drew the plaque forward.“i found this at the bottom of the box.”

He read the scroll.“wow! The Personality Award.” Malcolm looked at her.“we can’t recycle this!”

“I don’t intend to,” she said.“if we hadn’t sorted out the loft, I doubt we’d have remembered it.

“Something Chloe said made me think about keeping a digital record of the trophies. But not just on my phone. I’ll get one of them printed out and framed.”

He hugged her.“excellent idea, love.” With a contented sigh, she rested her head on his shoulder.“i have a feeling that Chloe might find just enough room on a shelf for one special plaque.”

the most precious thing from my childhood