It begins, weirdly, in Zone 3 of South East London, as Spenny and Lauren are getting Tangoed at the Rivoli ballroom. Lauren is wearing an astonishing combination of stormy blue straps and ruffles - the effect is very ‘back of a human woman, belly of a drawing of a fish’. Spencer has been down Jacomo for his duds. We can only assume he was taken in by an ambitious salesperson. ‘Jacomo - it is an Argentinian word for passion! You take your woman and you dance with her, while wearing this acrylic mushroom sweater with a detachable snood!’ Mercifully, the almost absent sexual tension is ramped up by the appearance of Jamie Biscuits. We have no idea how he made it beyond Bermondsey, but he’s here and he wants Spenny to come skiing with him. Lucy is invited, but Lauren isn’t. This is going to go down worse than a man with a mouthful of popping candy.
Nicola has arranged a special Jess slagging off sesh at a nail salon - Millie has been dragged along to hear her whinge. Dude, if you’re going to be bought with a manicure, get a proper gel one. That’s going to be chipped in about three days. Millie is either wearing a really dodgy ear cuff, or the producers have given her a poorly concealed earpiece, and they’re feeding her lines through it. Being Millie looks like it’s about as much fun as playing Horatio in Hamlet - all you have to do is agree with the person who has been speaking when there’s a conversational gap. Jess doesn’t know she’s being betrayed - she’s all alone on a bench being photogenically sad. But she’s hopeful about the fact that Mytton spoke up for her, even if it means that Nicola may murder her in her sleep. ‘It’s soooo bad,’ says a sweaty Toff helpfully, who is on a mysterious ‘power walk’ with Sam.
Nicola is still berating Alex for ‘being the mediator’ and intimates that she will withhold sex forever unless Alex agrees with every single opinion she holds, presumably including controversial ones about beef Monster Munch being better than Pickled Onion. Alex agrees with the easy smile of one who is looking at a jar of formaldehyde containing his own sliced frontal lobe. Sam gets Millie over for cocktails and ‘foreplay - I mean horseplay!’ because horseplay is a word that normal people use in everyday conversation. He makes something grey, and something that looks like own brand Berocca. She still wants to bone him. Mysterious.
Do you remember getting party invitations as a child that bore the legend ‘There is a party and you are invited!’ and wondering whether any kids were unlucky enough to receive a brightly coloured note announcing ‘There is a party and you are not invited!’ Spencer needs something from the latter stationery line for Lauren, who is understandably cross that there is no room for her in the chalet. ‘You hate skiing, and you don’t like Lucy,’ Spencer says, his patience audibly fraying. Now, I don’t think any of us like being actively disinvited to anything involving fondue, ex girlfriend or no ex girlfriend.
Lauren’s reaction does not stop Spenny and the gang heading to Courchevel, which is less fun to say than Varb-yarrrr. ‘I’m unreal! I’m ridic at ski!’ screams Biscuits, who is pretty ridic at speaking words good too. James falls over. The girls, sensibly, are eating giant platters of melted cheese in an alpine caff. Binky is sad that JP isn’t really good at texting, or snogging, and Louise isn’t that good at pronouncing JP without inserting an extra sixteen syllables. In the blink of a loo break, everyone is naked, snogging and jumping in the pool. Hurrah, this is more like it! Spencer and Lucy have a fully robed reconciliation, and the gang persuade Spenny to invite Lauren out. ‘You said you wanted space, so I’m giving you your space,’ she sniffs, even though it has just transpired that Lauren is still living in his house, among the pop art pictures of olive oil that may or may not have been nicked from Jamie’s Italian.
Back in London, Nicola, Millie and Lauren are having drinks, which means that everyone at home can play Bellend Top Trumps - every card is a losing one! Millie’s nail polish is already chipping, possibly because Nicola’s evil glare is enough to take the paint off a BAE missile. Nicola is angry that Jess reckons her and Mytton are mates - especially because she just made Mytton take her to a posh hotel for a night of what we imagine to be soulless anal, with nothing but mini bottles of Molton Brown bath oil for lube. Mytton is holding up his end of the bargain, and has told a winsomely pouty Jess that he’s not allowed to talk to her any more. As Sam predicted, it has gutted her ‘like a fish’. She can’t believe what she’s herring. (SORRY).
Spencer leaves the lodge early to find Lauren zipping up a bag, semi convincingly. ‘Every word that’s coming out of your mouth is making me feel a lot more shit,’ she huffs, so Spencer sensibly stops talking and goes to bed. Spencer teaches us that if you can’t say anything nice, you shouldn’t say anything at all - so we’re going to stop typing and move on to our heroes and villains of the week.
Hero of the week: Lucy
This was a prime week for Watson, who showed us how wonderful the world can be when everyone gets on for five seconds. There was more joy in her scene long exchange with Spencer than we saw in the duration of their entire relationship. What the world needs now is love, sweet loving. Hurrah!
Villain of the week: Mytton
Now, we’re not sure that we approve of Nicola or Jess and the way they seek to manipulate Mytton, but Alex is so spineless that he was actually doing The Worm, while standing, as Alik told him off for getting Jess’s hopes up. We already know that Episode 10 will be tearful, and it will be Mytton’s fault.
Like this? Then you might also be interested in:
Made In Chelsea 9.6 Biscuits Shows His Teeth, Nicola’s Got A Beef And Lauren Gives Lucy Grief
Made In Chelsea 9.5 Toff Plans A Shoot, JP Is Super Cute And Andy Won’t Stand On Biscuits’ Foot!
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This article originally appeared on The Debrief.