Girlfriend experience companionship
It is a borrowed phrase, and the house uses it with care. Here it means one thing: an evening in which the company feels familiar rather than formal. Conversation starts easily and keeps going. She takes your arm on the walk from the restaurant because she wants to, not because anybody asked her to. Nobody is performing.
It is not a separate product and has no separate price. Any length on the ladder can be spent this way, from one hour at £600 to a dinner at £1,800, and it remains, like every arrangement here, time and companionship only.
Chosen by Octavia for this kind of occasion. Any other companion can be asked for too.
Saturday, late in the afternoon, and raining. She finds you in a corner of the bar at The Cavendish on Jermyn Street, kisses your cheek, orders a pot of tea and asks what you have seen of London so far. By the time the rain stops you have agreed on supper at a place she likes two streets away, and on the walk there she tucks her hand into your elbow without comment. To anyone watching, you are two people who have known each other for some time.
Sixty minutes can hold real warmth. Familiarity, though, grows with the evening, and this arrangement is at its best over two hours at £1,100 or three at £1,500, when there is no sense of a door about to close. For a first meeting, the longer line is usually the one that feels right; the rates page lists the others.
Some people are easy company by nature, and Octavia knows which. Nancy is sunny and relaxed, and particularly good with someone meeting a companion for the first time. Rosa has chestnut curls, a ready laugh and flour on her hands most Saturdays. Thea, caramel blonde and down to earth, holds firm views on where to eat rice. Vanessa is gentle and curious and asks the kind of question that keeps a conversation alive. Lucy speaks softly and, on a clear night, can name the brighter stars over the park.
Nancy, Rosa and Thea are among the curvaceous companions of the list, though temperament, not figure, is what Octavia is matching here.
Nothing grand is required. A supper on Jermyn Street, a slow crossing of Green Park at dusk towards the palace, half an hour among the shirtmakers and scent shops before they close, a table for two on Dover Street. The quarter is small enough to walk, and here the walking is part of the evening.
In the notebook, the unhurried evening describes the pace that suits this arrangement, and by introduction explains how Octavia matches one temperament to another.
The arrangement is not reserved for evenings. A Saturday afternoon at the Royal Academy followed by tea on Piccadilly, or lunch on Dover Street and an hour among the shelves at Hatchards, suits it perfectly. Daylight has its own advantage: the conversation is unhurried by the approach of midnight, and the evening, if you want one, can follow on without a pause.
To match temperament rather than appearance, Octavia sometimes asks a question or two that an ordinary booking would not. Whether you prefer to talk or to listen. Whether you like being shown somewhere new or would rather stay close to the hotel. Whether the evening marks anything. Answer whichever you please; the more she knows, the more accurately she chooses, and nothing you tell her leaves the thread.
No particular words are needed, and none are expected. Tell Octavia you would like an easy, affectionate evening rather than a formal one, and add anything that helps: the conversation you enjoy, a subject to avoid, whether you are a little nervous. She passes it on before your companion sets out. The booking page has the rest.
The terms do not change for this arrangement. Fees cover time and companionship, nothing more, and any request beyond that brings the evening to a close.
Brief answers, kept on file. Octavia answers anything further in writing.
Ask OctaviaNone. The ladder is identical for every kind of evening; the difference lies in the companion Octavia suggests and in what you tell her beforehand.
Then say so when you write, and nothing more is needed. Octavia will suggest someone who is patient and easy, and the first quarter of an hour will take care of itself.
If you wish, and if her diary allows. Familiarity deepens with a second or third evening: she remembers the wine, the stories and the subjects, and you begin where you left off.
Very naturally. Book the four-hour dinner line and tell Octavia you would like the evening relaxed rather than formal; the table becomes the centre of it.
A dinner, a journey, a table of clients: one sentence is enough. Octavia proposes the companion best suited and sets out the details in writing.
