Nancy swims before most of Kensington is awake. In summer that means the Serpentine Lido when the gates open; the rest of the year it is an indoor pool, forty lengths, no excuses. She arrives at evening bookings with the easy glow of someone who started her day properly and has been in a good mood ever since.
She is thirty, 170 cm and curvy, her hair long and golden blonde, her eyes a bright, direct blue. Nancy lives in Covent Garden and has the sunny, easygoing nature of someone who has driven a lot of coast roads with the windows down. She dresses simply and well: a white shirt, good jeans or a silk dress, gold at the ears.
Road trips are her great love. She talks about coast roads the way other people talk about restaurants, and plans next summer's route over breakfast most weekends. Sushi is the other constant; she will happily sit at a counter for two hours watching a chef work. She speaks English with a warm, open laugh and is the sort of person who turns a stranger into an old friend somewhere around the second drink.
For a Kensington evening she chooses Min Jiang, the restaurant on the tenth floor of the Royal Garden Hotel, where the windows look straight across Kensington Gardens towards the palace and the sunset does half the entertaining. Your own hotel is a short ride away, or simply a lift down, depending on where you are staying.
Find Nancy under Kensington, and read the rates before you write; a single message books her.
