If you’re not a Strictly fan, this won’t mean much to you. But, according to programme data, there are still more than six million of us so that makes it more than enough for a talking point.

Admittedly, that is far fewer than its peak viewing year of 2020 when more than 10 million people tuned in. That might, however, have been something to do with the Covid lockdown period when most of us were housebound and relying on our television for company.

Still, six million plus is a good number, so I think it’s worth a discussion.

To recap: there’s been a row about a professional dancer and a celebrity who was pared with him last season. It started this time last year when the celebrity, an actress, dropped out after leaving a cryptic message on Instagram (as you do!) underneath a pair of dancing shoes and explaining of her “deepest regret” at her decision to leave the show.

While she thanked everyone on the team for being a “wonderful bunch of people” she did not mention her partner. And the rumours started.

The Italian champion dancer, beloved by many of us who followed the show, left and is now working happily in Italy. He denies all alleged wrongdoing.

There’s been a “he said/she said” back and force for months now, including a couple of highly publicised interviews from our celebrity giving her version of events. I must admit to dipping into one of them and feeling very sorry for her, reminding myself that, while it might be true, it may not have been as her dance partner saw it. He hired a firm of top lawyers – as did she – but kept a “dignified” silence.

The matter was put to the BBC management who, the corporation decided, were to be judge and jury, external mediation was not required.

And so it was left. And left and left until the Strictly season was once more upon us. But, this time, it didn’t have the same sense of joy it’s had every year since I’ve been watching it. It felt a bit flat, and that was before it had even started.

We fans wanted to know the outcome of the inquiry. Most of us were on one side or the other so it would be useful to have some firm guidance, rather than the slip-sliding position we were in at present.

I’m not sure – and it’s only a week or two at the most since it happened – what the sequence of events was. Did we get the BBC’s verdict before the show began or did it become headline news (really? Headline news?) after Strictly had started? I can’t remember.

What I do know is it seems to have been a complete damp squib. Neither one thing, nor the other, with both sides “delighted” with the outcome. Sounds like a brilliant judgment but, again, … really? Usually, one side feels just that teeny weeny bit disgruntled.

I don’t know if I’m taking one for the team, but I have to say that I felt a little disgruntled. Not every disagreement ends with a “two sides to every argument”. Sometimes there’s a right and a wrong and we need to be brave enough to choose who you believe and come out and say it. That’s what judging’s all about. Otherwise, why bother?

I can’t say I’ve put that thought to one side. I haven’t. I still feel slightly discontented and, frankly, cheated.

Out of slight desperation and a little bit of curiosity, I’ve returned to Strictly for my Saturday autumn into winter entertainment but the sparkles aren’t quite enough.

None of the TV ahead of programme “teasers” had the excitement that they usually do; the celebrity “stars” were more men than women because, it turns out, women have been put off from taking part by what’s happened and the va-va-voom just was not there.

It gets worse. The first show opened and closed with not one single mention of anything. Not the controversy, not the findings, nothing. Absolutely nothing. Week three (or was it four) and still not a word, except for a joke by comedian Chris McCausland, who’s dancing with professional partner Diane Buswell and who happens to be blind. Now that’s a challenge.

After one truly amazing performance, he slipped in a line about how his partner had “kicked him in the face” during rehearsals and there was a split-second’s stillness before nervous laughter appeared. Seems like the presenters have been warned not to go there at any cost.

And then I realised. It’s the elephant in the room that no-one’s talking about. It’s bad enough in “real” life but you can’t have that in a dancing competition. It takes up too much space and how on earth can you look fairy-like and magnificent when there’s this great bit jumbo taking up your space?

The judges, the presenters, the professional dancers and the competitors are trying to put on a brave face but it’s just not working. Ironically, they seem out of step and behaving out of character. It’s as though they’ve been taken over by aliens. Or, perhaps more likely, they’ve been told to provide diversionary tactics to stop the audience concentrating on that all-absorbing elephant.

A brave face is not good enough. The problem must be confronted and we, the millions of fans who are still willing the show to work, need to be informed about what is going on. I feel as if the “grown up” BBC is treating me like a child and deciding what I can and cannot know. Considering I pay my licence which makes me a stakeholder in the organisation, I consider myself patronised.

This, of course, is not all about a TV dance competition. It’s about life and how we might feel if we’re not treated with the respect and trust we deserve.

It’s about being authentic, telling it as it is and facing up to the consequences. It’s about removing the elephant in the room by replacing it with the adult. It’s about us behaving as adults and insisting on being treated as such. It’s about a dialogue, a conversation and finding a way to fix the problem, if there is one. Communication is always the key. Silence creates a space for problems to fester.

Otherwise, next year, they won’t be having to worry about elephants. Instead, they’ll be looking at ways of filling the huge gap left for Saturday night programming because their audience has decided it’s time to leave the dance floor.