Liana, companion in Marylebone

About Liana

Liana treats an evening as a thing to be arranged well and then enjoyed completely. She is slim, 167 cm, her long chestnut brown hair worn straight, her brown eyes reading a room before her coat is off. She dresses to a standard rather than to a trend: good tailoring, a hem that behaves, and one pair of earrings she has worn for years. In her late twenties, she has the poise of someone who has been the calmest person at a difficult table more than once.

In English she is precise and quietly funny, and she has the rare habit of answering the question you actually asked. She is interested in design, in how buildings and restaurants are put together, in why one room works and the one next door does not. She will not dominate a conversation and she will not let it die either. People who dislike small talk get on with her immediately, because she skips it and goes straight to something worth saying.

Marylebone is home and she knows every hour of it. The old fire station on Chiltern Street is where she puts a guest who wants the busy version of the neighbourhood, an early table in the courtyard or the room at the back when it is cold. For the quiet version she walks you up Marylebone High Street instead, where the shops are shut and lit and the pace drops by half. Either way she is home in ten minutes, which makes a long evening easy for her to agree to.

Both versions of Marylebone, the loud one and the quiet one, are described on that page. Say which you want when you write to booking, and anything you would like arranged is noted with the confirmation.

Booking her

Tell the desk the date, the hour and which version of the evening you want, busy or quiet, and Cordelia will confirm Liana with the meeting point in writing. Three hours is the size that suits her best.

Her figures are the same figures every companion here works to, printed on the rates page, and the order a booking runs in is on the booking page.

An evening with Liana

She arrives at the hotel at the agreed minute, not five past, and she has already settled which room the two of you are eating in. The courtyard when the year allows it, the back room when it does not. She talks to the staff like people, which is why the service at her table is better than the service at yours would be alone.

Dinner runs long. She is good at the middle stretch of an evening, the part where most conversations run out, because she is genuinely curious and not at all nosy. Afterwards she walks the high street with you, past the closed bookshop windows, and she will tell you what she would change about every building you pass. Then back to your hotel, or not, depending on the hours you booked.