Courtney

In her own hours

Bookings with Courtney tend to lengthen: the hour becomes ninety minutes, the evening becomes the night. Disarmingly straightforward from the first minute.

A strange building at an odd hour holds nothing for her: the lift that needs a key, the corridor numbered backwards, the porter who wants to know who she is visiting. Twenty-three years of being told she is too direct have changed nothing, and the arrangements are simpler for it. Where she shines is the beginning - the coat off, the small talk, the point where the room stops being a hotel room. The awkward hours are hers by choice, and she makes them look like nothing at all.

Courtney decides which bookings she takes and may decline any of them; she sets the limits for what a session includes, says what they are, and may end a visit at any point, as the terms set out.