Liana, companion in Park Lane

About Liana

Self possession is the word for Liana, and at twenty eight she has had time to earn it. At 167 cm she is slim, the chestnut brown hair long and straight, and the brown eyes hold a gaze a fraction longer than most people expect. Her clothes are narrow and quiet: a column dress, a coat worn open, a single line of gold at the throat. She stands very still while she is being spoken to, which has the effect of making whoever is speaking take a little more care.

Her conversation is unhurried and rather formal, and it improves steadily over an evening. She speaks English and nothing besides it, with a dry precision. She is interested in food properly, not as a subject to be performed but as something to be got right, and she will happily spend twenty minutes on the difference between two versions of the same dish. She does not interrupt and she does not check the time.

Park Lane suits her because the rooms there are large enough to disappear into. She favours the Japanese room on Old Park Lane, where dinner runs late and the room is loud enough to make a quiet conversation feel private. Marylebone is home, a fifteen minute journey south, and she arrives early rather than on time. Afterwards she likes to cross to the Hyde Park side and walk as far as the corner by the plane trees before any other plan is made.

The wider picture of Park Lane after dark has a page to itself, with every length set down at rates. Give booking a date and that is enough.

• 167 cm, slim, a long and very quiet silhouette
• Brown eyes; long chestnut brown hair, worn straight
• Twenty eight; formal English, dry and precise
• Marylebone based, fifteen minutes from Park Lane
• Late dinners, large rooms, the park side on the way back

Arranging her evening

Liana prefers the long lengths and is at her best after the second hour, so three hours upwards is what Delphine will suggest. A day's notice is plenty.

Her figures are the house figures, set out in full on the rates page, and the whole arrangement runs in one written exchange from the first line to the confirmation.

An evening with Liana

Liana arrives before the hour and waits without appearing to wait, which is a skill of its own. The first hour is deliberately slow. She asks what you have been doing rather than what you do, which are different questions, and she listens to the whole answer before saying anything at all.

She eats seriously and talks about it, and the conversation tends to widen from there into whatever the food reminded her of. By the third hour she is warm, funny and noticeably less formal, and the dry precision has turned into something closer to teasing. Afterwards she likes Park Lane at the hour when the traffic thins and the hotels are lit along one side. Where the evening goes from there is entirely your call.