Elite dinner companions in Mayfair, W1K and W1J, for a table worth dressing for

Mayfair was laid out in the eighteenth century by two great estates, the Grosvenors to the west and the Berkeleys to the east, and it still reads like a plan: squares, mews and long straight streets that deliver you to a door. What changed is what happens behind the doors. Great houses became hotels and embassies, stables became restaurants, and the district became the place London books when a dinner matters.

The rooms vary more than their reputation suggests. There are hotel dining rooms among the most decorated in the country, where the silence between courses is part of the service. There are grill rooms and oyster bars whose menus have hardly moved in decades, and small places near Shepherd Market where your table is closer to your neighbour than to the window. A good companion knows which kind of evening each one makes, and dresses for it.

Named as destinations only. There is nothing between these hotels and this house, in either direction. Your companion arrives as your dinner guest, which is precisely what she is.

On Brook Street stands Claridge's, W1K 4HR, the Art Deco grande dame, and its Fumoir, a small bar of lacquer and etched glass, is the most private first drink in the district. The Connaught, W1K 2AL, at the corner of Carlos Place, has a bar where the martini is mixed from a trolley and a dining room of the first rank. The Dorchester, W1K 1QA, faces Hyde Park across Park Lane, with a traditional Grill and one of London's three starred kitchens under the same roof.

Next door stands 45 Park Lane, W1K 1PN, smaller and more modern, with a serious steak room. Brown's Hotel, W1S 4BP, is this house's own neighbour on Albemarle Street and the quietest of the six. The Ritz, W1J 9BR, on Piccadilly, still asks for jacket and tie in its restaurant; your companion dresses to complement it.

Three stations bracket the district. From the southern hotels, Green Park is about 4 minutes on foot and gives you the Victoria, Jubilee and Piccadilly lines. Claridge's is 5 minutes from Bond Street, where Elizabeth, Central and Jubilee trains all stop. The Dorchester and 45 Park Lane are roughly 7 minutes from Hyde Park Corner, which the Piccadilly line serves alone.

Your companion, for her part, is driven, and because Mayfair sits in Zone 1 you will never see a charge for it.

Book the table first. Then write to Octavia with the restaurant, the hour and any rule about dress. She suggests a companion who suits the room, confirms the name, the fee and the meeting point in writing, and passes on anything you would like your companion to know beforehand. A Mayfair dinner can be arranged the same day: when one of the three who live here is free, the wait is usually under the hour, and for anyone else it is the time you agree.

Meet at the restaurant, at your hotel bar or in the lobby. If you are staying in the district, a room number is confirmed once; for a residence, the street and the door. She receives her fee from you directly on arrival, which keeps it entirely apart from the bill for dinner. There is nothing to sign.

Guests at the grand hotels, many of them here on business, holding a reservation for two and no wish to cancel it. Residents of the mansion blocks and mews, who would rather host a quiet supper at home. Visitors in London for a single important evening, a gala on Park Lane or a charity dinner, who need a companion able to hold her own at a table of ten. The request rarely varies: good conversation, correct dress, perfect timing.

Half past seven, Claridge's. Samanta arrives in black, one silver cuff at the wrist, and takes the chair nearest the wall without being asked. One glass in the Fumoir. She wants to know which staircase in the building you used, and why.

Half past eight, a table on Mount Street, reached on foot in a few minutes. A long dinner, fish and then more fish, and a bottle chosen after a short and serious talk with the sommelier. Eleven o'clock, a slow walk back past the lit windows of Brook Street, and a nightcap before goodnight. Four hours, £1,800.

Angelika, Luna and Samanta all give Mayfair as home, which makes them the quickest introductions to any hotel in W1K or W1J. Angelika is athletic and direct, and will discuss painting until the dessert menu arrives. Luna is bold, likes a plan and nearly always has one. Samanta is the composed one, tall and unhurried, a listener first.

Nearest after them are Liana and Rosa, who live in Marylebone on the far side of Oxford Street, then Bianka and Margo from Knightsbridge and Lea from Belgravia, along the park. Bianka tastes wine properly; Margo follows the auction calendar; Lea will notice the cornicing before the menu.

Mayfair's southern edge is Piccadilly, and the avenue's own page follows it east to the theatres. Albemarle Street and Dover Street, the two streets this house knows best, run up from it into the district. Across the road lie the park side hotels of Green Park and, beyond them, the clubs of St James's. Park Lane, Grosvenor Square, Berkeley Square and Bond Street have no separate pages here; companions go to all of them, and the fee does not change.