Flowers in one hand, a glass in the other, if she can arrange it. Nora is 166 cm, athletic and quick. Her hair is honey blonde and long; her hazel eyes narrow with amusement well before she actually laughs. Her look is sun-warmed resort glamour even in a grey London autumn: a sharply cut dress she has usually altered herself, gold sandals, a bright scarf knotted at the wrist.
Spirited and adventurous, she proposes the detour before anyone else has thought of one, and never wants to be the first to leave. Warmth comes easily to her. She speaks English with enthusiasm and a gift for description. She trained in fashion design and never switched the eye off: seams, cuts, the fall of a fabric, the reason a jacket works or does not. Champagne is her celebration drink, and she considers most days worth celebrating.
Her part of east London is Columbia Road Flower Market, the Sunday street of stalls a short walk from Shoreditch, where traders call out their prices and the pavement disappears under buckets of blooms. A Saturday overnight can end there, with coffee from a hatch, a bunch of whatever is in season and a slow wander through the small shops on either side. On other evenings she is just as happy with champagne at a Shoreditch hotel bar and a late supper nearby.
Nora lives in Paddington. A day's warning suits her, and first nights in London, straight off a plane, are welcome too. Plan a Shoreditch evening or a Sunday morning through booking; the overnight is priced on rates.