Santa's treat for him indoors

Sometimes I teach burlesque - classic striptease - to a large class of girls in a gym. The gym has a large glass window that looks down onto the men on the treadmills below but I tell the girls the runners make a good practice audience.

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.