The good news is that Toff is still employed! Dressed in beautifully understated navy, and pearls that did not come from a three-for-two rack at Claire’s Accessories, she’s being grilled by her boss about the taking of tea. She’s forced into a lengthy, confusing discussion about crockery. If poor Toff wanted to sit at her desk talking about cup sizes, presumably she’d have sought out an internship on Jugzzz magazine. Apparently lesser guests get crap cups and biscuits, and more desirable guests get golden cups, and cake. ‘So if someone is really important, do they get biscuits and cake?’ asks Toff, reasonably. ‘Never!’ huffs her editor, looking as though Toff had just shat into a saucer and offered it to the Countess of Wessex. But that’s nothing compared with the horrified reaction to the fact that Toff doesn’t know when The Archers is on.
Stephanie is seeking reconciliation. Louise, Rosie and Binks have invited her to brunch, and she turns up with little white boxes. We’re hoping for cream cakes, but she’s brought corsages, as she wants everyone to come to her fifties high school prom themed 30th birthday party. (Is it me, or is there something creepy about celebrating the start of a brand new, grown-up decade by pretending you’re still at a point in life where people set you homework?) The Watson sisters are invited, but will they come? As Lucy is better at holding onto grudges than most of us are at holding onto laddered tights and broken headphones ‘just in case’, let’s not hold our breath.
Biscuits is still pining over Frankie, and it would be almost convincing if he talked more about why he loves her instead of endlessly complaining about how unfair it is that he’s been judged on his past. Biscuits, you can’t call it the 'past' if it happened two weeks ago - it’s like those people who use the Instagram #TBT tag on a Thursday to post a sexy selfie they took on Tuesday. Binky is also bemoaning the lack of JP in her life, in a genuinely heartbroken way - it hurts to see her so sad, but it’s frustrating to watch her missing the man who seems to want to become her Kim Jong Un, and will only be happy if she’s wearing utilitarian grey and singing songs about how she loves her illustrious leader - sorry, boyfriend.
Louise has a run in with new boy Matt, who goes from anonymous to creeper in about nine seconds, telling her how he also just broke up with someone and it was hard because he used to have lots of sexy sex. ‘So, you’re newly broken hearted and I’ve decided not to get into the pants of that friend of yours I’ve been seeing - wanna hump?’ is the summarised version of his street corner chat. Wisely, Louise does not start panting and rubbing herself against his trousers.
James bears down on Lucy and Digby, bearing the corsage (‘It’s like a flower!’ ‘It’s HALF DEAD!’). Predictably, Lucy finishes the flower off with her withering contempt, and she frightens James into littering, although one suspects she wanted him to drop it on the street just so the camera could get a clear shot of her sticking it in the bin. Even Digby the dog gives James some serious side eye from his mistress’s arms. Tiff has a similar reaction, and she’s extra gutted when Sam produces the box because she ‘thought it was a present’. However, Sam isn’t quite as noble as James, and thinks he really ought to go because he’s never had a shot at being prom king. This is what happens when you attend one of England’s exclusive public schools - the shame and deprivation of never being awarded a shiny foil crown.
Toff is still trying to learn about tea, and Victoria reveals that her friend with a tea plantation sells the nice stuff to Fortnum’s and Harrods for ‘normal people’ to buy, and the stuff you get in your mug of Typhoo is basically dust and toenail clippings. Who knew dust could be so refreshing!? Lovely Jane meets JP to talk about how her daughter is properly broken hearted, and JP says encouraging, warm, sympathetic things like ‘But I need to think about me’ and ‘Binky can only come back when she fully accepts the new rules of the regime,’ (One of those might be made up, but you get the gist). Elsewhere, Biscuits of all people is speaking sense. ‘Your boyfriend is your team mate, not your manager,’ he tells Binks. Let’s face it, JP makes Jose Mourinho seem like a laid back, loving potential boyfriend.
The girls are shopping for prom, and scheming Olivia (although I’m not sure that she’s scheming for anything other than screen time) dobs Jess into Frankie and says that Biscuits claims he’s jealous when she sees other boys. Jess plays it down and tells Frankie how much Biscuits wants to be with her, and is clearly less interested in stealing Jamie than she would be in getting her own job at the Lady. Jess has been a joy this series, I think she might be the show’s new moral centre.
It’s prom time! The girls look gorgeous, the boys look pleased with themselves and everyone is drinking the world’s most dubious punch, which looks like it has been made from expired Bacardi Breezers and Bloo rim block. Cheeky, sexy Matt makes a dash for Louise and propositions her over the bowl. ‘I don’t really take very well to compliments,’ she responds, so traumatised by his balls out approach that the English language momentarily fails her. He then tells her she’s beautiful - twice - and that he fancies her more than he fancies Jess, who is currently wearing his corsage. ‘When you were messaging Lucy, that was a little odd,’ says Louise. We’ve got your number, Creepy McCreeperson.
Olivia dobs Jess in again, telling Biscuits that Jess has been revealing intimate conversations to Frankie, when Olivia has done all the prodding and poking. Biscuits approaches Frankie with no tenderness or self awareness, shouting at her like he ordered a steak tartare from her 40 minutes ago and she’s just turned up at his table bearing a side salad. I would sign a change.org petition to have Biscuits forced into a monastery right now.
Sam is seen fixing the vote so that he becomes Steph’s prom king, and obviously everyone at the party sends a picture to Tiff, who doesn’t even know that Sam has gone to the party. And JP and Binky have a tearful confrontation in which he keeps telling her to ‘go away, and work on yourself’. Oh, JP, how we’d all love to work on you, ideally with a big pointy stick. Binky, run! Biscuits could harbour you in the monastery! It would be just like The Sound Of Music, only with more slogan sweatshirts and fewer outfits made from curtains.
Hero of the week
Let’s give it to lovely Jess, who has been a total doll this series, kind to her friends, honest to her conquests and probably spends all her downtime helping injured baby birds when the camera isn’t rolling. We love you!
Villain of the week
While we could make JP villain of the week every week, it’s time to give it to Creepy Matt and his dick led, frighteningly unsubtle ‘flirty banter’ which is to charm what KFC is to a chicken caesar salad. I don’t know that he’s ever sent unsolicited dick pics to women he’s never met - but I really wouldn’t be surprised if it, erm, came out.
Like this? Then you might also be interested in:
Made In Chelsea 11.9 JP Is Controlling, Jess And Matt Are Rolling And Toff Is Enrolling
Made In Chelsea 11.8 Biscuits’ Sexual Habits Are Minging And Steph Seeks Gay Men For Mingling
Follow Daisy on Twitter @NotRollerGirl
This article originally appeared on The Debrief.