Lea, two seats at Stratford East

Lea is small, bright and impossible to hurry, which is exactly why an evening with her feels longer than the clock says. Petite at 161 cm, she has long auburn hair in loose waves and hazel eyes that turn almost green under stage lights. She dresses in soft colours and good fabrics: a cream silk blouse, a skirt that sways, a cardigan she will lend you if the auditorium runs cold. Her whole look says romantic without ever saying fragile.

Sweet is the obvious word, spontaneous the more useful one. Lea is charming in a way that never feels rehearsed, and she will change a plan during the interval if a better idea arrives. Her English is warm and quick. Theatre is her first love; interiors are her second, and she judges a hotel room by its lamps before she mentions the view. Weekends she spends at a pottery wheel, so her hands sometimes still carry a faint trace of clay.

In Stratford she heads for the Theatre Royal Stratford East, the Victorian playhouse on Gerry Raffles Square whose red and gold auditorium feels a century away from the glass of the Olympic quarter outside. She books seats in the stalls, reads every page of the programme while the house lights are still up, and laughs a beat before anyone else in the row. Afterwards there is supper within five minutes' walk and a full review of the second act.

Lea comes east from Belgravia, around forty minutes by Tube, and midweek curtain-ups suit her best; weekends need a little notice. Browse Stratford for hotels near the park, compare durations on rates, and ask booking to reserve her evening.