A porcelain-faced girl sits at a kitchen table surrounded by plates heaped with cake, devilled eggs and roast chicken. She is wearing a party hat and a frock the colour of cotton candy; her hair is in neat braids. Day after day, she folds paper napkins and waits - like a sort of miniature Miss Havisham - for a guest who may never arrive.
Claire Titelman's solo show tells the story of a child who hasn't cracked a smile since a grisly birthday party disaster. Clocking in at a mere 30 minutes, it is not much more than a small slice of American Gothic, but it still slips down a treat, slyly stripping away the soft illusions of apple-pie nostalgia.
The script conjures a childhood gone sour and the queasy atmosphere of a picnic gone wrong: we can see the ruffled dresses, the fingers sticky with frosting, and sense the incipient tantrums. And Titelman, coolly staring down the audience with wide, calm eyes, is a hypnotic presence as the eternally frozen girl.
· Until August 27. Box office: 0131-668 1633.
