Margo, companion in Knightsbridge

About Margo

Thirty one suits Margo considerably better than twenty five did, and she will tell you so without being asked. At 166 cm she is slim, the dark brown hair long and dead straight, and the brown eyes settle on a person and simply stay there. She dresses with real discipline: a narrow skirt, a good shirt, a coat in a colour nobody else has chosen that season. There is never anything on her that she has not decided about.

Directness is the pleasure of her company. English, plainly spoken, with none of the softening most people put around an opinion. She will tell you when she disagrees and she will not sulk when you disagree back. She is well travelled and unsentimental about it, she reads biographies almost exclusively, and she has a low opinion of anybody who talks through a first course. What she offers in return is complete attention and a memory that does not need reminding.

Knightsbridge has been home long enough for her to have opinions about how it has changed. Her preference is the fifth floor at Harvey Nichols, early in the evening when the light is still coming through the glass and the room has not yet filled, followed by a long walk through Hans Place and the squares behind Sloane Street. She likes that the whole evening can be done on foot and that nobody has to look at a map.

The streets she walks are covered by the Knightsbridge page, and what each length runs to is at rates. Put a date to booking and it is confirmed without fuss.

• 166 cm, slim, dark brown hair worn dead straight
• Brown eyes, and a gaze that does not move
• Thirty one; direct English with nothing softened
• Knightsbridge based, the whole evening on foot
• Early starts, long walks, biographies on the shelf

Arranging her evening

Margo starts early, usually at six, and her evenings tend to run longer than planned rather than shorter. Delphine takes the date, the hour and the address, and nothing else is needed.

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 Margo

Six o'clock, the room half empty, and Margo already at the table with her coat folded rather than hung. She begins with a real question and expects a real answer, and the evening is noticeably better for it. She has no patience for the first twenty minutes of politeness that most evenings waste.

She eats properly, drinks one glass and talks for the whole of it, and her opinions arrive whole rather than in pieces. Later she softens, though never into vagueness. The walk afterwards is the part she looks forward to: Hans Place, then the squares behind Sloane Street, where the garden railings are lit and the houses are mostly dark. What happens after the walk is your decision, put to you plainly and once.