Saturday 25th October
"Shush, it's on." Clearly, my discourse on guttering will have to wait.
I sit down on the comfy chair with a nod to fliss and the Champagne set but there's something missing: the 'Stars of our Show' are all lined up and Lilia's not there. It's like looking through the window of Ben and Jerry's and finding there's no Chunky Monkey.
We begin with Lisa and Brendan. Last week's surprise package, they scorn tradition and perform a Paso to 'Eye of the Tiger'. It's punchy and dramatic and, with the benefit of hindsight, the best Paso of the night. Seemingly blessed with no sight at all, the judges deliver a middling 29. Arlene wants to see Lisa 'work through her chest'. I'm with Arlene on that one.
Andrew and Ola take to the floor like lambs to the slaughter. You have to warm to this guy, he's a tryer, and spending 5 hours a day strapped to Ola can't be easy for a chap. Aided by low expectations their Viennese Waltz passes muster. 'Bumgate is history' cry the judges as Andrew stands upright and presses his groin into Ola's face (an added bonus, one might think). Craig says he's 'faking sway' - at least that's what I think he said. "24 points, that's fair." I said. "Yep." says Mrs JfW.
Christine (don't mention Alesha) and Matthew arrive. At this point I have to declare that, should Mrs JfW decide enough is enough, I have Christine pencilled in as a replacement. Subsequent observations are, therefore, less than impartial. Nevertheless, what follows is a dreadful calumny perpetrated by fiendish imposters who have no right to pass themselves off as afficianados of the dance form. Despite a beautiful frock (graded from silver to black with a mauve lining) and a polished performance, a well choreographed Paso is met with derision, culminating in the word 'plankish' from Craig, who contributes just 3 points to a brutally unfair 22.
Still reeling from the shock of arbitrational incompetence I spot Austin and Erin out of the corner of my eye. They start by turning a lot to the left and then they turn a lot to the right. A proper Viennese Waltz, then. Overcome with excitement Arlene is up to her old tricks again; starting sentences without having planned an ending: "Austin, you are a...that was the most..." - desperate to buy some time while she plots a path through to a full stop she starts throwing in adverbs, but to no avail, so she throws up her hands, folds her arms and sits back in her chair. I think she liked it. 34 points suggests I'm right.
We cut back to Brucie and he's not ready for the camera. I throw back my head and slap my thigh - anything to avoid watching the tv. Cherie and James step forward to save us but they've underestimated the size of the task. Cherie's argument with the wardrobe department has still not been resolved, they completely fluff the start, there's no passion, no confidence and very little Paso. In 'Judges World', however, this constitutes 'very good' and warrants 31 of your Earth points. If her name had been Andrew she'd be hanging from the rafters right now. Curiously dissatisfied with every swear word I know, I invent 3 new ones to see me through.
Heather and Brian are waiting in the wings and I can see her lips shaking. Regaining her calm, she steps out in the pinkest dress I've ever seen. A colour unknown to nature, it's the ballroom equivalent of an e-number but the one thing that outshines the dress is Heather herself; she performs a beautiful VW and Craig is oddly out of step with the others, limiting the score to 27. It's a step in the right direction though, for the diminutive diva.
Mark and Hayley have a tough act to follow and Mark's exposed torso and Hayley's scarlet dress combine to distract us from their Paso. A woman of some class and keen to avoid their suffering, Mrs JfW leaves the room. Her chassay to the kitchen earns her an 8 (it would have been a 9 but she nudged the table on the way back). Left alone with Mark and Hayley I ponder the wisdom of trying to gain points with what amounts to a pole dance. Perhaps they should have adopted Ola's tactic of adding experimental moves, possibly the 'headbanging' that I am currently trying out on the doorframe. It's a shame really, Mark knows it's not gone well and he stands next to Brucie like a fallen horse at The National - the kindest thing to do now would be to put up a screen and wait for the gunshot. "You're no good at dancing" is the best of the comments; Craig and Arlene deliver 5 points between them but Len and Bruno believe that this was just 1 point worse than Christine and Matthew's. That sound you can hear is the grinding of my teeth.
We return to a proper dance competition with the arrival of Tom and Camilla. At least, I think it's Camilla, it could just be Tom in a bootlace tie. They do a dance. T&C fans will be disappointed to know that it left no impression on me, however I find myself once more at odds with the dancing cognoscenti and it appears their VW merited 32 points. What do I know? "You messed up the fleckerl" said Len. Yeah, I spotted that too. It was the first time this year I'd seen a dancer's feet.
It's apparent from the outset that John and Kristina have put their heads together and worked on some Paso fundamentals - bang on some classic Spanish music and teach him one step: the stamp. Now, call me old-fashioned but the sight of a small blonde woman dragging a corpse around a dance floor is not my idea of Saturday night entertainment. At the end, the crowd goes wild but, wisely, Craig keeps his counsel. The look on his face suggests that most of the adjectives he really wants to use are prohibited by the watershed. 3 points looks positively gushing - he believes this to be the same standard as Matt and Miss B. What happens next is a touch disconcerting; either that or it sends you into a spiralling vortex of anger and pain: they amass a total of 21 points. In short, the difference between John's and Christine's Paso is 1 point. Right now you get the feeling that John could punch Kristina in the face and club a seal to death on the floor and he'd still get a 6 from Len.
The sight of the pint-sized popstrel Rachel in white stillettos and a silver dress, straight from the 1950s, is enough to drag me from my angst. Despite Vincent's best efforts we're still not getting The Full Rachel. The Half Rachel is enough, however - at least for this week. She looks spectacular and the full, swirling skirt plays its part in gleaning 32 points from the Viennese Waltz.
As if that wasn't enough we round off the evening with Jodie (I'm not a horse) and Ian. Jodie is very tall (about 18 hands) and Ian is well practised with the challenges this presents. Elegant, graceful, stylish. I won't be using any of those words in the next few minutes. 'Architectural' maybe, or 'statuesque'. It's a Paso, my friends, but not as we know it. In a running theme, Arlene puts it level with Christine and John, Bruno thinks it's one point better. Not for the first time tonight, I find myself at a loss for words...
Sunday 26th October
I'll cut to the chase here. I've just watched the results show. The moment of truth (which, thanks to the dramatic pausing, is really the 4 minutes of truth) has revealed Mark and Hayley as the recipients of the bad news. 24 hours on, however, I have yet to come to terms with the erratic scoring of our renowned arbiters. My anxiety over Miss B, my concern for the integrity of the competition and, indeed, for my own sanity, are all perfectly normal. My therapist said so.
