Neil! Come on! (to audience) Only minu
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Victoria is nervously waiting to go out to her surprise party (which she knows all about). However,
Neil! Come on! (to audience) Only minutes to go now. Like waiting to walk to your own execution with the slow drum beat death march ringing out. My heart’s bloody racing. Maybe if I feign a heart attack I could get out of going?
She checks her pulse.
Racing, ticking, like a time bomb. Why the hell didn’t I cancel one of them? Couldn't without giving it all away or breaking my daughter's heart, then she'd never speak to me again. I just left a message on Wendy’s phone to say I would be in the bar, I stressed bar as opposed to the restaurant. Sent her a text as well just to be sure, put it in capitals, will look like I am shouting at her. (Screams) I feel like screaming! She’s not got back to me yet so now I’m paranoid I have already upset her, again. (calmly to herself) Don’t be daft, you haven’t upset her. She’s just waiting in the bar as you suggested, nice and calmly, sipping a white wine and-
She picks up her phone and screams at it.
Ring for God’s sake will you? Beep! Ping! Anything!
Calmer, to audience.
I thought my life would be sorted by now and I could just enjoy it. But it’s got more complicated. A week ago I was just coasting, hating the looming birthday but blissfully ignorant of this anxiety attack. How do I meet a daughter of forty-five?! Christ I’m nervous. I used to distract nervous actors with jokes if they were worrying about that night’s performance, even if they didn’t laugh, they'd be distracted for a bit.