Nancy, companion in Park Lane
Gold at dinner, blue eyes, and thirty years of not being flustered.
- Age
- 30
- Her district
- Covent Garden
- An hour opens at
- £250
- Arrives
- Suites and private addresses
- Height
- 170 cm
- Hair
- long golden blonde
- Eyes
- blue
- Figure
- curvy
- Languages
- English
About Nancy
Nancy has the calm of a woman who has already dealt with most things once. She is 170 cm and curvy, her golden blonde hair long and heavy, her eyes blue. She wears gold and warm colours in the evening, cut simply, and she has a way of walking into a hotel lounge that suggests she is meeting an old friend rather than arriving anywhere. She is thirty and entirely at ease with it. She wears her hair down and has never owned a dress that needed explaining.
She is generous with her English. She talks well, asks properly, and is interested in the answers, and she has a gift for making a difficult day sound survivable without once saying so. She swims in the mornings, grows things badly on a balcony and has opinions about hotel breakfasts that she will share at length if invited. She is the most experienced company here and the least interested in saying so.
Her Park Lane evening is a proper dinner and nothing more complicated. Theo Randall at the InterContinental on Park Lane suits it: Italian cooking of the plain, serious kind, a room with space between the tables and service that does not interrupt. She lives in Covent Garden and crosses in twenty minutes. If your hotel is on the same stretch of road, the whole evening happens within four hundred yards, which she thinks is the height of civilisation. She will order the same pasta twice in a week and defend the decision.
Hotels along Park Lane and the squares behind it are where she is most often asked for. Name a day in a message and her hours come back the same afternoon.
- 170 cm, curvy
- Long golden blonde hair, blue eyes
- Thirty, English speaking
- Swimming, plain Italian cooking, long dinners
- Lives in Covent Garden
Booking her evening
Nancy suits dinner bookings and overnight evenings rather than short calls. A day's notice lets a table be held on Park Lane itself.
Her figures are the house figures, printed in full on the rates page, and the whole arrangement runs in one thread from the first line to the confirmation.
Also on this wall
An evening with Nancy
Nancy's evening has no surprises in it, which is the compliment she would want. A drink downstairs, a table already held, and a conversation that starts properly rather than circling for twenty minutes.
Dinner is Italian and unshowy: the pasta is the point, and the room stays quiet enough for a whole sentence to land. She is warm, funny and completely unhurried, and she will happily talk about her own week if you ask, which not everyone does. Afterwards the park is across the road and the hotels are a short walk in either direction. She is good at long evenings and better at slow ones, and she has never in her life rushed a goodnight. By the end she knows how you take your coffee and has quietly ordered it.
Nancy, in her own words
Space between the tables and a bath that fills quickly. Everything else can be arranged.
Not at all. It is a conversation, not an interview, and I hold up my half of it.
Either, but I am at my best when nobody is watching the hour. Slow evenings suit me. A slow evening lets a room stop being a hotel room. By the second hour it is simply where the two of us happen to be sitting.
Where she sits
In the margin
The remarks card for Nancy is still blank, which is usually what discretion looks like. A note appears here only when a guest writes one, she agrees to it, and the house has checked that it reads as a first name, a month and nothing private.