Cindy, booked for the daylight hours

Clear sky, light wind from the west, golden light by five: that is Cindy's favourite forecast, and she will tell you so before the lift doors have closed. She is cheerful in the uncomplicated way of people who spend a lot of time outdoors. A sailing weekend on the south coast, a yoga mat unrolled on the balcony before breakfast, a camera slung across her body on the walk to meet you. Nothing about her is hurried, and nothing is sulky.

At 168 cm she is slim and light on her feet, with long wavy blonde hair that the river breeze always reaches first and blue eyes that crease when she laughs, which is often. She wears linen in summer and a camel coat with clean trainers in autumn, and she is in her mid twenties. She speaks English plainly: if an idea is good she says so, and if it is not she suggests a better one without making a fuss.

Afternoons are her hours. She likes to meet in daylight and let the evening arrive on its own, perhaps with a walk along Chelsea Embankment while she photographs the light on the water, then tea or an early glass at the Cadogan on Sloane Street. She shoots on film and never photographs guests, only rooftops, bridges and the occasional heron. By the time the lamps come on you are back at your hotel, and she is still talking about sailing.

Chelsea is home, a few minutes by cab from the hotels of South Kensington and Knightsbridge. She keeps to daytime and early evening bookings; ask Henrietta for an afternoon slot and name the hotel.