Santa's treat for him indoors

Occasionally I give one-on-one classes - often for wives who want to surprise their husbands with a little routine.

"Can the lesson be at my house," asks one new client. "I want to stage it in my living room." By the sound of her voice, she isn't young.

"Yes," I chirp. "Do you want the styling package? I'll take you to some lingerie shops to choose an outfit."

"No, I've got my costume," she says with confidence.

I arrive at her Georgian townhouse in Marylebone. I'm relieved my pupil is not as old as she sounded - around 45 with blonde, bobbed hair and wearing a white dressing gown and a very enthusiastic smile.

While we get used to each other over a peppermint tea in her taxidermy-filled living room, an owlish man (husband, I assume) pops his head around the door and says, "I'll be back at eight, then."

"Yes, Edward, you were supposed to be gone by now," snaps my pupil. He shrinks back and leaves the house.

"What did you tell him?" I ask.

"That I'm organising a special present for him this Christmas - and that he can't be in the house while I practise."

We go through the history of burlesque, learn postures and basic dance moves. Suddenly she whips off her dressing gown and underneath is the most impressive costume I've ever seen on a novice.

It's a long dress fashioned out of bright red Christmas wrapping paper with a large split up one leg and a big gold bow around her waist. She stands, posing in front of me, ready to start her unwrapping routine.

"Wow!" I say.

What a shame that she has chosen to dance to Destiny's Child, Eight Days of Christmas.

I muffle a guffaw as the music starts and we set to work, creating a routine that starts with a leg poking round the living room door and finishes on the chaise longue in nipple tassels.

"Full marks for effort," I say. "He's going to love it."

As I leave the house I pass Edward at the gate and, glancing back at the living-room window, I wonder how much of a surprise this present is going to be.

"I'll see you on Christmas Day," he winks, and I blanche at the thought.

"Um, I won't be there," I say, but he just winks again. He'll be surprised, all right - just maybe not in the way he's expecting.