In Which I Join Fortuna's Fantastics*

So, to Brian and Kristina's salsa class.

The evening did not begin promisingly. Owing to our ignorance of traffic on Chelsea FC match nights, we got stuck in gridlock on Chelsea embankment for almost half an hour, immobile behind a car containing the most grotesque couple you can imagine. She was wearing a red and white knitted beret-style hat, he was in a black fedora, and they were eating each other's faces. And just when the snogging could not get more repulsive, she disappeared down into his lap... NO. NO. NO.

Finally we arrived, half an hour late - that very half hour spent watching the milliners dogging - and were greeted by the following sign at the entrance to the club:



Classy joint.

Went inside, full of trepidation. I was expecting a huge venue filled with hundreds of avid Strictly fans practising their cross body leads while Brian and Kristina demonstrated, ant-like on a faraway stage.

Not a bit of it. It was a smallish nightclub, with a few dozen people inside, maybe three times as many women as men, the guys all lined up along one side of the room and the girls taking turns to dance with them. In between the two lines were Brian and Kristina explaining what to do, and when we stumbled into the room, baffled and late, Brian took hold of my friend and showed her the turn himself.

First squee of the night.

So we joined in, and it was easy to catch up, with Brian giving clear and amiable instructions, and Kristina helping out demonstrate the moves. And I got a turn dancing with Kristina! Second squee of the night! She said that I was "very good", but then she is used to dancing with John Sergeant and Joe Calzaghe.

Brian, I'm sure you'll be keen to know, is taller and more handsome than he comes across on TV and in photos, with an extraordinarily sexy body. It is not shallow to notice this or point it out if the person in question is a dancer. Kristina is absolutely tiny and beautiful. They are both lovely. Brian's patter is more studied, a sort of relentless but harmless flirtatiousness (I got flirted with - third squee of the night) heavily leavened with cheese, but all delivered so good naturedly that you can't possibly object. Kristina is quieter, shy and demure until she gets dancing, and incredibly sweet and charming. I can see why their dance partners have a habit of falling for them. I'd definitely shag Brian if he was my dance partner and I could get away with it, and I'd probably shag Kristina too. Like I say, it is not shallow to point this out. I know that my readers demand rigorous research into these matters.

After the dance class, Brian and Kristina sat on the stage and did a Q&A about various aspects of Strictly and their careers.



The Q&A was diverting - it was enjoyable hearing them speak for longer than the few seconds you get on TV, getting some idea of what kind of people they are, and fun to get an insight into how the programme works - though nothing they said was particularly surprising (it's a good show to work on, all the dancers get on well, only moment of controversy being that Brian wishes the dancers got credited for their choreography on the pro dances). Someone was cheeky enough to ask Brian about whether he and Ali were a couple, and he was both suggestive and cagey. Actually, having seen how much his flirtiness is part of his act, I wouldn't be that surprised if there was nothing going on at all bar a very effective publicity stunt, or even if Brian was gay, but I'd also say that his appeal was very clear and I could also believe that Ali would go for it. So I can't help out with the gossip, sadly. The most revealing moment was when someone asked the apparently quite dull question of what the dancers eat to stay in shape, and Kristina said "Nothing". She elaborated to clarify that she basically doesn't eat. It's very sad to think that a woman who is essentially an athlete is under such pressure to be thin that she can't even nourish herself properly.

If you are thinking "hang on now Phillips, 'essentially an athlete?'" that's because you were not there last night and therefore didn't get to sit and watch Brian and Kristina perform their show dances. They did four dances: a salsa, a foxtrot, a rumba and a mambo, all in different costumes and not on stage but in the middle of the dancefloor with everyone sitting around the edge. That means they were dancing only a few feet away from me, with nobody between me and them. The intimacy of the setting meant that during the dances they could look at the audience members directly in the eye. (Losing count of the squees now.)

The dancing was incredible. Kristina, in particular, is an international dance champion and is one of the most amazing movers I have ever seen. I wish I had a photographic memory and could recall everything they did, but there was one move in the rumba which is unforgettable: Kristina drops to the ground in the splits, and Brian picks her one of her feet and lifts her, without her bending her legs, so that eventually she is standing doing the splits vertically. I watched the dances with my mouth wide open in pure jaw-dropped awe. This wasn't cheesy, look-at-the-sequins, ironic appreciation, this was the real thing. The skill they have is unbelievable.

Then, final squee of the night, we got to have our picture taken with them. We were second from front of the queue but even so there was a little wait, during which a couple, who were audience members like we were, insisted on doing a long and elaborate and massively inferior dance in the hope of attracting the attention of Brian and Kristina, but which only succeeded of reminding me of the amorous hat people in front of us in the traffic jam. It was excruciating, rather as if I rocked up to hear Haruki Murakami do a reading and then decided to read from my own novel to the people waiting to get their books signed. Please, no.

When we got to the front of the queue I totally lost my cool. I took a terrible, out-of-focus picture of my friend with her camera phone because my hand was shaking so much, and then when it was my turn I couldn't stop gushing about how amazing they were and what a privilege it was to see them dance in such a small space, and wishing them best of luck in the competition, and and and and and. God knows what else. It's a bit embarrassing really. I don't think you're actually supposed to squee out loud. Here is the photo, I managed to shut my mouth for long enough:


(Kristina's outfit is, in fact, a harem-panted jumpsuit which nobody but she could wear without looking like a tropical heffalump).

And so off we went. Completely brilliant night. As I can't support Joe and Kristina no matter how lovely Kristina is (he is just too lumpen), it's now team Ali & Brian for the win. I can't help it. They were just too lovely.

*I'm not sure if I need a badge or something.