There’s far more pleasure than there should be in these stories, given their frequently appalling subject matter. It’s a selection of the work of Bridget O’Connor, who published two collections of short fiction in the 1990s and won a posthumous Bafta for her adaptation of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy shortly after her death in 2010 at the age of 49.
O’Connor is exceptionally good at making us laugh at things we shouldn’t be laughing at. In Remission, “twig in a wig” Lucy develops “a career in cancer” after finding her diagnosis gives her a new sense of purpose. In Love Jobs, a scene where a pet dog is accidentally killed during a mugging is – I’m sorry – howlingly funny. O’Connor’s mother didn’t like her stories – “there’s enough swearing on buses and television” – but that shouldn’t stop the rest of us.
It’s all in O’Connor’s distinctive vision of the world – as a comic mess – and in the way she tells them: a buzzy, hectic style that disarms the reader with its intimacy. Her hapless heroes and heroines are often looking for love – “You throw your knickers, like pasta, up against the wall. If they stick, you fancy him” – but usually in the wrong places. One narrator is so accustomed to her man’s abbreviated lovemaking that “if I timed it right I could set my tea down steaming and after ... it would be just right. Very nice with a fag.”
Collectively, the stories create a community of voices: out of luck, out of time, but always getting back up for more, such as Rick in Old Times, whose annual reunion night with a childhood pal ends up with him beaten to a pulp at a bus stop. “And it was only 7.30pm.”
O’Connor was never able to write a novel and you can see that her restless style wouldn’t have worked at greater length. “I have a 10-page span and then I collapse under the weight of it,” she said in the Irish Times. But given these stories have more electricity in them than many novels, that’s no loss at all.
• After a Dance: Selected Stories by Bridget O’Connor is published by Picador (£16.99). To support the Guardian and Observer order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply
