Nancy, companion in Dalston

About Nancy

Dalston at half past ten is the noisiest part of the east and the Rio's neon is the calmest thing on the street. Nancy stands under it waiting, blonde hair long and golden even in that light, blue eyes, 170 cm and curvy, in a coat belted at the waist and shoes she has clearly walked in before. She has the look of a woman meeting somebody she actually likes, which is a useful trick on a wet Tuesday.

She is thirty, speaks English fluently, and carries the confidence of somebody who stopped auditioning years ago. Nancy is a film person, properly: the Rio's programme, the late screenings, the old prints that turn up once a year. She will argue about an ending for an hour and then concede the point gracefully. She is also the best listener in this book, which she puts down to sitting in the dark a great deal.

Her evening here is simple and hard to improve on. The Rio Cinema on Kingsland High Street for whatever is showing, then twenty minutes in a Turkish place further up the road where the grill is still going at midnight. Dalston has no hotels of its own, so it is flat visits or a car afterwards. She lives in Covent Garden, half an hour on a good run, and she does not pretend otherwise.

Dalston is two minutes from Dalston Junction and three from Kingsland, with the Windrush line running right through on Friday and Saturday nights. Every length is priced on rates. Say which night to booking and Nell does the arranging, screening times included.

Booking her

Tell the desk the hour and the address and Nell will confirm it in writing. If there is a film you want to catch, say which one, because Nancy will have an opinion and probably a preferred screening time.

Every figure she works to is public on the board, and the steps sit on the booking page.

An evening with Nancy

A film first is an unusual way to begin and it works better than it should. Two hours in the dark beside somebody removes the small talk from an evening completely, and you come back out onto the pavement with something real to argue about. Nancy will have settled her verdict before the lights come up and will hold it under cross examination.

Dinner afterwards is late and unglamorous in the best way: bright lights, a grill, bread arriving before you have sat down. She talks with her hands and finishes your chips. Kingsland High Street at midnight is a fairground, and she walks through it entirely unbothered. If you are staying central she will share the car back and keep the conversation going until the Angel, where she usually runs out of things to say about the ending.