Violetta Antcliff

Violetta Antcliff has been a member of the Nottingham Writers’ Club for the best part of Twenty years. She is the winner of numerous short story competitions and was area short listed in Waterstone’s WOW factor story competition. She took first prize in Nottingham short story competition with a story called Irish Mouse Tales and has read her poetry and short stories on local radio.

New Titles by Violetta Antcliff

When Mr. and Mrs. Goldstein find they have an uninvited guest, they don’t know if they should make him welcome or make him leave. Mr. Goldstein is all for telling him to stay, pointing out to his wife that not everybody has a Leprechaun for a houseguest; and Joseph, their unruly eight-year-old son, meets his match when the Leprechaun uses magic to teach him a lesson.

                                                                                                       Excerpt

Word Count: 5078                             Pages to Print: 23
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Excerpts:

Leprechaun Magic

    Ruth Goldstein stood arms folded looking out of the window. She was angry, fed up with the constant battles that raged daily between her and her husband over their son. The cross words between them today had come about because she’d giving permission for the boy to see a science fiction film at the local cinema when her husband had said he couldn’t.
    Face dark as thunder, she turned to face the man she’d been married to for over ten years, walked over to where he was sitting and plonked herself down on a chair opposite him.
    “Why are you so against our Joseph going to the pictures? His pals are going, so why can’t he?” she spoke tight lipped.
Samuel Goldstein was an easy-going man, but there were times when he felt he had to put his foot down, like now.
    “Because I told him he couldn’t, that’s why,” he snapped crossly.
    “Well that’s no answer. There must be more to it than that.” Ruth wasn’t going to be put off easily, young Joseph was the love of her life and she would do anything for him. She still felt guilty when she recalled how she’d lied the day his teacher had stopped her in the street and told her that Joseph had said he was not allowed to go outside at playtime as he had a bad chest. She'd known it wasn’t true but had said it was, to keep him out of trouble, had even written a letter to confirm it.
    “If you must know, I told him he couldn’t go when it was school the next day, that’s why. That child of ours is out of control,” Samuel fought to control his anger, “I tell him he can’t do something and he turns straight to you and you say he can. And your mother’s just as bad, I stop his spending money because he back-chatted and what does she do? Gives him twice as much as he should have, that’s what.”
    “Don’t you bring my mother into this,” Ruth jumped up, charged over, and began poking him in the chest with her finger, she was cross−very cross.
     “My mother,” she said between jabs, “would do anything for our boy. Didn’t she buy him a bike when you said he couldn’t have one?”
    My point exactly, thought Samuel, with a sigh of exasperation. He knew he couldn’t win, yet he had no idea how to solve the problem.

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