Something is not quite right in Prebend Gardens, a pretty tree-lined street of Victorian villas in a quiet corner of Chiswick, west London. Well-heeled residents are going about their everyday business: high-fliers jump on City-bound trains while the BBC crowd heads for television centre and the acting types wait for the phone to ring. Chris, the florist, sets up his stall at the tube station as normal and the sportifs arrive at the gym. But something is missing.
For the best part of 30 years this middle-class street has also been home to an eccentric who used to live in her car. Anne Naysmith, a former concert pianist who fell on hard times, was the village character, accepted and even loved by many but despised by a few who feared her scruffy quarters might blight the value of their £500,000-plus houses. Two months ago, amid tears and recriminations, the car was finally towed away.
The saga of Miss Naysmith (which continues - her supporters are campaigning to get the car back) is a melancholy one which raises issues about how people who live on the fringes of society are treated.
She was born plain Anne Smith - she only tacked the "Nay" on three years ago - in Southend in 1937. He mother, Marie, was of eastern European origin. By the time they moved to Hounslow, west London, when Anne was eight she was already a promising pianist and won a place at the Royal Academy of Music.
At 18, Miss Naysmith rented a room in Chiswick. She took a job teaching music at the Marist convent school in Sunninghill, Berkshire, and by 1960 was also teaching at Trinity College of Music in London. Careful with her money, she managed to save enough to buy a Ford Consul and to move into better digs at 22 Prebend Gardens.
Her musical career seemed to be taking off. When she was 25, she played Beethoven, Bach and Debussy at Leighton House in Holland Park, west London, and went on to perform symphony concerts under the auspices of Sir Adrian Boult. In 1967 her mother hired the Wigmore Hall. Anne was to star. A reviewer from the Times praised the "rich warmth" of her interpretation of Rachmaninov but judged her Chopin "far too strained". It was becoming clear that she would struggle to make the grade as a top-class musician.
By the early 70s she had given up teaching and ran into money problems. At about the same time a romance with a 6ft 5in choral singer failed. Her financial position worsened until, to her horror, she was asked to leave her lodgings. Believing she had been wronged, she took to sleeping in her car, near no 22, and agitated to get her rooms back. She never did.
The adoption of a reclusive lifestyle is sometimes known as Diogenes syndrome after the Greek philosopher, Diogenes of Sinope, who showed his contempt for material things by living in a barrel. Miss Naysmith became Chiswick's very own Diogenes. She began to follow a rigid routine. She performed her ablutions in a local doctor's surgery and cooked on an open fire in a nearby car park, where she also made a patch of garden. She sometimes passed produce on to favoured neighbours - her tomato chutney is said to be particularly good.
Miss Naysmith became a regular visitor to the Barbican music library and was sometimes to be found chatting knowledgeably to crowds outside the Albert Hall. As her clothes fell apart she stitched new ones with rags. She was ingenious, using pigeon feathers to insulate the plastic bags she wore on her feet. She has always refused handouts and is thought to survive on a small sum stashed in a bank.
Miss Naysmith's lifestyle has brought her problems. She has been targeted by local thugs and her car was set alight. In the end, though, Hounslow council did for Miss Naysmith. The authority has been taking an interest in her case since 1976. It frequently offered her alternative accommodation but she always insisted that if she could not move back into no 22 she would stay in the car.
Over the years a succession of social workers, charities and agencies which work with the homeless tried to help, but no solution emerged.
Two years ago, a new resident launched a campaign to have the car removed. She wrote to neighbours: "I know I am speaking for many residents when I say that it is time Miss Smith's car was moved on." She acknowledged that Miss Naysmith might feel "insecure" if the Ford were shifted, but claimed: "The fact remains that the car is a health hazard; it is covered in rubbish, she feeds pigeons there and rats have been seen coming from under the car."
However, many people wrote back in defence of their unusual neighbour. "She was here before us and her car is her home," wrote one. "Let us celebrate Miss Smith, not run her out of town." But the tide was turning. The council says it was under pressure from the local government ombudsman and last July the nine-strong Chiswick area committee, sitting in private, agreed that action should be taken to move the car on.
The chairman of the committee, Paul Lynch, and officers took over. In February the council successfully applied to Brentford magistrates for a court order allowing officers to move the car. A date - March 7 - was set. On that day, a bright, breezy Thursday, Miss Naysmith left her car, as usual, at about 8am. The brown envelope containing the court order remained unopened on her windscreen. Soon afterwards, council public relations officers descended on Prebend Gardens with leaflets explaining what was happening. Police officers stood by.
The PR officials claimed that "Miss Naysmith's friends", as well as councillors, had become increasingly worried about her. They said she had been offered a flat. The council tried to make it seem like a community decision, but most of Miss Naysmith's neighbours knew nothing of the plans. They were even more upset when the council admitted that her new home was not ready and she would first have to go into bed and breakfast accommodation.
Councillor Patricia Sterne, who sits on the area committee, said: "It was a complete surprise. It would have been helpful to know. We could have all worked together to make sure it went smoothly." Councillor Lynch admitted that senior officers told him to "keep quiet about the details". They were worried that moving Miss Naysmith could lead to a "media circus and inappropriate coverage".
When the tow truck arrived, three neighbours decided to take direct action. Though her leg was in plaster, Sally Mates, an actor and the sister of the former Conservative minister Michael, clambered on to the bonnet of the car. Sian Wheldon, 41, another actor who has appeared in EastEnders and The Bill, and florist Chris Young, 42, leaned purposefully against the side of the vehicle. The "Prebend three" only halted the protest after they were threatened with arrest for obstruction.
Ford can be proud of its workmanship. When the Consul was winched on to the tow truck, it did not crumble. There was no sign of the rats that Miss Naysmith's opponents had been so concerned about.
When she returned, Miss Naysmith was devastated. Her supporters borrowed a neighbour's Mercedes estate car and parked it on her usual spot. She spent one night in the car but it was vandalised and she was left homeless again. Since then, friends say that she has slept in various places, including a police station and a hospital.
The council says that in the past six months it has offered her four flats but she has turned them down. Supporters claim the places she has been offered are too far from her home territory. Lynch says that Miss Naysmith seems to be weeping more than usual, and not keeping herself as clean. Her supporters are concerned that she is living rough and that her health is failing.
Ambitious schemes to get her back to Prebend Gardens have included finding an organisation prepared to buy no 22 - its rooms are still rented out - and allow her to spend the rest of her days there. A benefactor has donated another car, but there is nowhere to put it. And besides, Miss Naysmith argues, she already has a perfectly good car.
Legal solutions are being sought. John Wadham, director of the civil rights group Liberty, says that Miss Naysmith may be able to argue against the council's actions under article eight of the Human Rights Act 1998 which states: "Everyone has the right to respect for his private and family life, his home and his correspondence."
But there is no positive ending in sight. Joyce Johns, a local businesswoman and one of the closest allies of the lady in the car, says: "Miss Naysmith is an ambassador for Chiswick. Her story has been picked up by newspapers and television channels around the world. She should be given the freedom of the borough.
"We need a fairy godfather or mother to come and buy no 22 for Miss Naysmith, or give her a piece of land where she can park her car. If we could make one old lady happy, the whole world would be a better place."