What the hold is
A booking with the desk runs in two steps. You ask for a companion, an hour and a length; the desk checks her diary and writes back with an offer carrying her name, the start time, the arrival window, the figure and a line saying until when the offer stands. The booking exists only once you answer yes to that message. The time in between is the hold.
During the hold, her hour is kept for you. Nobody else is offered it, and a request from another guest for the same hour waits until yours has either been confirmed or has lapsed. When the hold ends without a reply, the hour is released and she is free for whoever asks next. It is simple, and it is written down, so there is never any doubt about where things stand.
The hold is not a maybe. It is a short window with a stated end, and that end is exactly what separates it from the open ended pencilling the desk will not do for anyone.
How long, at what hour
In the afternoon and early evening, an offer usually stands for thirty minutes. That is long enough to finish a meeting, check a train time or look at her page again before replying, and short enough that she has not lost her evening while you think it over.
From around ten at night the window shortens to fifteen minutes, and after midnight it can be ten. The exact end is always written into the message as a clock time rather than a duration, so there is nothing to interpret: a reply that arrives one minute after the stated time has arrived after the hold, and the desk will check her diary again rather than assume.
These are the desk's usual windows, not a fixed tariff of minutes. On a quiet Tuesday afternoon an offer may stand a little longer; on a Friday in December, when every free companion is being asked for twice, it may be shorter. Either way, the message says which, and the time it gives is the time that counts.
Why the window closes faster at night
Late at night, time does two jobs at once. Every minute of hold pushes her arrival later, so an offer made at half past ten for an eleven o'clock start becomes a half past eleven start if the reply takes thirty minutes to come. At the same time, fewer companions are free, more guests are writing, and a companion kept for one guest who never answers may lose the only other request she would have had that night.
Paddington shows this more plainly than anywhere. Late arrivals off the Heathrow Express reach the station hotels at every hour, and the women who live in W2 are the quickest answers the desk can give after ten, which makes their evenings the most asked for. Holding one of them for half an hour at eleven for a guest who has fallen asleep on the bed is a cost somebody else ends up paying.
So the late window is short for fairness rather than for pressure. The desk would rather ask you for a prompt reply than keep an evening waiting on the strength of silence.
Asking for more time
If you need longer, say so before the hold ends and say why: a meeting still running, a flight not yet landed, a plan that depends on someone else's answer. The desk will extend the hold when nobody else is waiting for that hour, and will tell you plainly when someone is. It will not extend indefinitely, and it will not pretend to be holding an hour it has already had to release.
Often there is a better answer than a longer hold. If your plans will not be clear for another hour, the desk can offer a later start instead, and a companion booked for half past ten with a firm yes is worth more to everyone than one held for ten on a maybe. If you are on a train, give the arrival time and the booking is written around it.
Why the desk wants that firm yes in writing, rather than a nod on a call, is explained in why every booking is confirmed in writing.
When the hold runs out
Nothing happens to you. No figure is owed, and you are free to write again whenever you like. If she is still free when you do, the desk checks and offers her again; if she has been booked in the meantime, the reply names the nearest alternative and gives it a new window of its own.
The only thing that changes is that the hour is no longer yours by default. On a quiet evening that makes no difference at all. On a busy one it may mean your second choice rather than your first, which is why it helps to name a second choice in the opening message.
A confirmed booking is a different matter. Once you have answered yes, the hour is fixed, and any change to it is governed by the usual terms: nothing to pay if you give three hours or more, and the booking page explains what applies inside that.
Making the hold easy on a Paddington night
The quickest way to make the hold irrelevant is to write the first message completely. Give the companion's name and a second choice, the hotel, the start time, the length and the name on your reservation. With all of that in one message the offer comes back ready to accept, and a single word finishes it.
Late arrivals at the station hotels are routine for the desk. One of them is built into Paddington station itself, another looks over the park at Lancaster Gate, and a third stands on the Edgware Road. Bookings at any of them are arranged under arrival at your door: the room number is asked for once at confirmation, nobody at reception is spoken to and she goes straight up. The desk has no arrangement with any of the three.
Among the women who live in W2, Laura, from the brunettes list, takes late arrivals seven days a week and is the easiest possible company after a long flight. Vanessa, sandy haired and hazel eyed, lives five minutes from the canal basin, and Nora, honey blonde, prefers the early evening and can be at your door quickly. The fee is handed to whoever you choose in person when she arrives. Marylebone, across the Edgware Road, is covered on exactly the same terms.
Filed under: most of the names in this note also sit on the late twenties list in by request.