Come Dancing

On a grey rainy day an announcement was made in the canteen as the first dinner sitting came to an end.

‘Will first and second year pupils please report to the gym with their plimsolls.’

Wet dinnertimes at Twydall Junior School were spent reading comics in the school hall. I anticipated something similar as I joined dozens of others heading for the gym. Since plimsolls were mandatory in the gym anyway, there was no cause for alarm, not even when a prefect ushered us through the doors of the gym nearest the girls’ changing room. An idle hour was on the cards, no doubt about it. Or so I thought.

‘Oh no!’

What a shock. My form teacher Mister Potts was in the gym and some old time music was playing and…

‘Oh shit!’

At eleven years old I’d never given a thought to holding a girl’s hand, never mind prancing around the gym.

‘Bloody hell!’

The dances always began with Mister Potts, an accomplished dancer, giving a sparkling exhibition of the dance steps with a girl of his choosing. Of course the girl would smile nervously and pretend she wasn’t traumatised, but it fooled no one. Some looked like they’d been selected as a human sacrifice and no amount of desperate glances at her mates could help once Mister Potts had taken her hand.

Demonstration over, it was our turn to have a go. After much uncertainty and clumsy fumbling in the placement of sweaty palms in decent, proper places, the music started. Which way the legs went was beyond me, though I did my best. This was my introduction to the Upbury Manor custom of wet dinner dancing, something I’d learn to live with throughout my time in the lower school.

Mister Pott's record player

Remember those dances?

The Valeta Waltz: Could this be the one where at some stage, we tapped our foot twice behind us?

The Gay Gordons: Everyone knows the Chase me Charlie tune, but what of the dance itself? Is this the one where couples danced side by side, holding hands with the boy’s arm around the girl’s shoulder? After marching a few steps one way they then had to turn around, without dislocating an elbow, and skip in the opposite direction.

And what of the Circles dance? With elements of Ring a Ring of Roses, Pass the Parcel, Musical Chairs and bit of Russian Roulette, the music alternated between two phases. It started with an identical number of boys and girls forming two big circles, with the boys on the outer circle facing the girls on the inner circle. To a jaunty tune the sexes skipped sideways in a shuffling motion, in opposite directions. When the skipping music stopped, everyone had to stand still. Then, to a few bars of a sedate waltz, each couple had to dance closely with the person in front of them – a pleasant interlude with decent bird or a nightmare with an ugly one. Then, when the skipping music came back on, the couples parted and went around in circles again. The apprehension in this phase was emotionally draining. Whilst hoping for a goddess I feared the worst when a fatty wobbled into view… and sighed with relief when she passed by. The worst thing that could happen at the next waltz phase was to find myself facing a grinning beast. Argh! (I’m sure the girls had similar feelings.)

Here’s The Valeta Waltz. These dancers are more proficient than we ever were, but if you close your eyes and listen to the music, it’s easy to imagine those self-conscious days in the gym when the girls put on a brave face and the boys put both left feet forward.