Excuse the formatting
The Tap Dancer
By Heather Stephens
Enter Camilla noisily in tap shoes concealing something behind her back. She clatters forward angrily.
CAMILLA: Can’t tap on carpet. Its impossible!
She taps a toe and pouts.
And then…If I don’t practice. (Pause) Well! That’ll be that. I’ll never make it to the top. Never see my name in lights.
(She attempts a shuffle hop step)
Showbiz is desperately competitive, you know.
(She adopts a photographic studio long neck pose and sighs in an exaggerated fashion)
Life’s really not fair!
(She pulls out a vase in two fragments from behind her back and views the breakage with concern)
(Sulkily)I was only trying to perfect the routine after all.
(She attempts to piece the vase together)
Her favourite! (Pause) What am I going to say? (Fast to herself) Ttt, ttt, ttt, ttt…. Of course I know now that I shouldn’t have been standing on top of the sideboard. It was a silly thing to do…
(She shakes her head)
It just wasn’t big enough to tap dance on!
(She shuffles her feet and shrugs her shoulders)
Actually, everything was fine…until I did the high kick! Then the vase sort’ve, sprang up. And flew through the air! (Following the movement of the vase) And landed in two pieces the other side of the room.
(She taps loudly in a tight circle.)
Could blame the cat. (Pause) Trouble with that is…After the accident, when I tried to stand the pieces up again on the sideboard, hoping it’s look as if nothing had happened. Then, only when it was far too late: did I notice lots and lots of little dug out pits in the smooth wood, just where I’d been tapping. She’ll know the cat can’tve done that!
(She holds up the offending fragments and evaluates)
(Optimistically) Perhaps the little pits won’t be noticed. Perhaps the vase won’t be missed for ages and ages – If I just keep quiet.
(She smiles. The smile gives way to a look of horror)
What if she’s given masses of flowers. There’ll be nothing to put them in.
(She paces and stamps a foot in utter frustration)
What am I going to do? Suppose I’ll have to own up and cry a lot. That’s all I can do.
(She turns catching a sound and hastens to one side. She listens out and pulls a face before rushing back)
She’s on her downstairs, HELP!
(She views the fragments with desperation)
(Shouting) Mummy! There’s something I want to talk to you about.
(She searches for somewhere to hide the broken vase. Finally grasps the fragments behind her back in panic)
Mummy! I want to give up tap…I hate it!
(She throws down the vase angrily and storms off)