Visions & Revisions: An anthology of new writing by Junior Cycle Teachers [selected extracts]

Yvonne Corscadden
modest,’ Oscar added, as he smiled back at Jane with a twinkle
in his eye. ‘And also, why I’m such a hit with the gents.’
They both laughed, as Jane knew only too well Oscar’s
reputation with men.
‘But how do I follow up on, “the most courageous and
enlightening piece of modern fiction this decade” if everything
that I have written since is shit!?’ Jane sighed.
‘Ah,’ exhaled Oscar with derision. ‘That Irish Times reviewer
was up himself and was just trying to get into your knickers
when he wrote that,’ replied Oscar. ‘But I have to say, it didn’t
hurt with the book sales!’
They both chuckled and a stillness grew over the pair.
‘Can I tell you what I think is happening, why your writing
isn’t hitting the standard that you’ve now set for yourself?’ Oscar
said, and without waiting for a response, continued. ‘You are
happy again!’
It was a statement. Not a question and Jane looked at her
friend with disgust.
‘I. Am. Frikin’. Not,’ she countered, punctuating every word.
‘I’m still mourning the death of my sister.’
But she noticed the gentle turn at the corner of his mouth
and his ever-so-slightly raised eyebrow.
‘I’m not happy,’ she repeated with almost total disbelief.
‘You are!’ Oscar repeated.
‘I am not.’
‘You are.’
‘I AM NOT.’
‘You are. And there’s no point in disagreeing with me,
because we both know that it’s true.’
Oscar raced through the sentence so that he wouldn’t be
interrupted. The two friends stared at each other. A slight tension
between them and Jane stared at Oscar. Someone that she trusted
implicitly.
‘Staring me out of it isn’t going to make it not true, and
before your writer brain corrects me… I know that was a double
negative, so there!’
THE UNWELCOME MAT
They paused.
‘Fuck,’ replied Jane, breaking the silence.
‘Ya! Fuck!’ replied Oscar. ‘That’s what happens when you
fall in love.’
‘It can’t be. I can’t be in love, I can’t be happy,’ repeated Jane,
shocked at the words that were escaping from her mouth. ‘But
how can that be?’
She paused and inhaled in that staccato way that children
do when they finally calm down from a tantrum.
‘Well, you’ve spent a hell of a lot of time with Sam since
Aoife died AND I’ll tell you something else. You’ve known Sam
longer than I’ve known you.’
Jane’s eyes opened in sudden realisation. ‘Sam has been in
my life, since the little shit got us both beaten up by those dicks
that we went to school with. How can I “suddenly” be in love
with him?’ She did the always-annoying quotation marks symbol
with her hands.
‘Darling, I don’t think twenty years, is “suddenly.”’ Oscar
repeated the gesture but added his own little two-finger salute by
turning his wrist around at the end, before burying his head into
his desk and pulling out a bottle of rioja.
‘Fuck off,’ Jane replied, smiling in spite of herself. ‘He is
lovely though, thoughtful and considerate and …’
‘And absolutely fantastic in the sack!’ continued Oscar
pulling the cork out of the bottle, the ‘pop’ of which was timed
to perfection with the statement.
Jane snorted in laughter, which set both of the friends off
laughing again.
‘Aaaaaaaaaaaaah,’ sighed Jane, as she took a sip of the wine,
when the hysterics had subsided. ‘I needed that. Thanks for being
there and for being a good editor which ultimately makes you
a shit friend who tells me that my writing is useless, but at the
same time plies me with wine.’
‘You’re very welcome,’ came Oscar’s reply. ‘You know me,
always ready to open a bottle in times of emotional crises.’
‘So tell me. Things are going very well with Sam?’
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