Danielle, the late screening at the BFI

Black and white suits her. Danielle has the kind of stillness that old films were made for. She is 170 cm and curvy, and her long black hair falls straight past the shoulders like a curtain before the reel starts. Brown eyes, steady, rarely the first to look away. She dresses for the evening in dark colours, a column of black silk or a velvet jacket cut close, and she walks into a room as though she has already been told where to sit.

Calm is her natural state, and she is very good company because of it. She does not hurry a conversation or fill a silence with noise. English is the language, spoken low. Classic cinema is the great love, followed closely by poetry and by museums that stay open late. She can recite more verse than she admits to, and she will argue, politely and at length, that the finest thriller ever made is in black and white.

On the south bank her evening begins at BFI Southbank, tucked beneath Waterloo Bridge, where the repertory seasons run late and the audience stays for the credits. She chooses the film and she chooses well. She never checks the running time; a good film, she says, lasts exactly as long as it needs to. Beforehand there is one drink at the riverfront bar; afterwards, a walk east along the Queen's Walk towards the lit dome of St Paul's across the water, discussing the ending, which she will insist you misread.

Danielle is travelling at the moment and returns on Thursday 24 September. Requests for a Waterloo evening on any later date are taken now through booking, and the rates page lists each length.