It was over a duck vindaloo and a glass of something cool — Mrs D smiling across the table, Regent Street glittering beyond — that I celebrated my birthday this year at Veeraswamy.
Established in 1926, it’s not merely the oldest Indian restaurant in Britain but one of the rare survivors of an older, grander London: a place where the brass still gleams, the waiters glide as if trained by the Foreign Office, and the recipes whisper of glamour and ambition.
And now it faces extinction.
The Crown Estate, which owns the freehold of Victory House, has declined to renew Veeraswamy’s lease. The restaurant’s 25-year term expired this year; the landlord says it must go. The plan is to redevelop the building, converting the upper floors into offices and — crucially — removing the restaurant’s entrance just off Regent Street. In the polite language of redevelopment, this is called “re-configuring access.”
To the rest of us, it means eviction.
At first glance, this might look like an ordinary commercial lease coming to an end. But those of us steeped in the darker arts of conveyancing know better: this is a test case for the Landlord and Tenant Act 1954 — and, unexpectedly, for the Localism Act 2011’s lesser-known offspring, the Asset of Community Value.
The right to stay — and the landlord’s escape hatch
Under the Landlord and Tenant Act 1954, a business tenant in occupation is ordinarily entitled to a new lease when the contractual term ends, unless the landlord proves one of the statutory grounds for opposition.
The ground that matters here is section 30(1)(f): that “…the landlord intends to demolish or reconstruct the premises (or a substantial part of them), or to carry out substantial work of construction on the holding, and could not reasonably do so without obtaining possession.” The intention must be genuine, firm and workable in practice—not a paper scheme drawn up for litigation.
The Supreme Court’s decision in S Franses Ltd v Cavendish Hotel (London) Ltd sharpened the test. The question is whether the landlord would carry out the same works even if the tenant left voluntarily. If not, the intention is conditional, and Ground (f) fails. Works concocted solely to satisfy Ground (f) are disregarded.
There is more subtlety. The works relied on must relate to the holding — the demised premises as occupied at the hearing — and the landlord must have a realistic prospect of carrying them out, with planning, funding and programme in place. Preference is not enough; necessity is the point.
So the dance begins.
The Crown Estate will say the reconfiguration is substantial and cannot be achieved with a trading, protected tenant in situ. Veeraswamy will say the opposite: that the proposals are cosmetic or could be phased, and that eviction is convenience, not necessity. The court will look beyond glossy drawings to intention, feasibility and whether possession is truly required.
That test, honed by the Supreme Court in Franses, asks not merely what the landlord says it will do, but whether it would do those same works regardless of the tenant’s renewal claim — the dividing line between genuine redevelopment and strategic eviction.
Enter the Asset of Community Value
And then, into this legal waltz, strides a different instrument altogether: the Asset of Community Value, or ACV.
Born of the Localism Act 2011, the ACV scheme allows community groups to nominate land or buildings whose current non-ancillary use furthers local social wellbeing or social interests, with a realistic prospect that such use will continue within the next five years.
If listed, a relevant disposal — that is, a sale of the freehold or the grant or assignment of a lease originally granted for at least 25 years — cannot proceed until the owner has notified the council and allowed time for a community bid: a six-week interim moratorium, potentially extending to a six-month full moratorium, followed by an 18-month protected period.
Two clarifications matter:
- First, ACV listing does not compel a lease renewal, alter rent, or prohibit building works; it only delays certain disposals and adds procedural—and reputational—weight.
- Second, ACV status can be a material planning consideration and may restrict some permitted-development routes, complicating a landlord’s broader redevelopment even where no sale is planned.
In Veeraswamy’s case, the Soho Society has petitioned Westminster City Council to have the restaurant listed as an ACV. Their argument is elegantly simple: this is not just any restaurant; it is an institution, a century-old meeting place woven into the social fabric of London. Mahatma Gandhi once dined here, as did the Duke of Kent (though not at the same time …). Generations have toasted birthdays, anniversaries, and diplomatic victories within its mirrored walls.
One can almost hear the argument forming before a planning committee: that “community value” need not mean a scout hut or cricket field — that it can also mean a place where Londoners, from Mayfair to Southall, have come to share a meal and, perhaps, a little pride.
The conveyancer’s view
For those of us who live among leases, titles and indemnity clauses, the Veeraswamy affair is instructive. The 1954 Act gives security of tenure — but not immunity from genuine redevelopment. The ACV regime gives the public a voice over disposals — but not a veto over lease renewals or internal works. Combine them, however, and the tenant wields both statutory protection and civic capital.
On the landlord’s side, precision is everything: serve the right notice (or answer a request) on time; marshal a scheme that meets Ground F and passes the Franses acid test; evidence planning and funding; and be ready to show why works cannot reasonably proceed with the tenant in place.
On the tenant’s side, interrogate access and common parts, scrutinise necessity, and, where appropriate, keep ACV (and planning optics) simmering.
There are practical lessons here for conveyancers of all allegiances. Always test whether the proposed works are structural and necessary, not merely convenient. Track timing and “holding over” risk after expiry while renewal is in dispute. And when acting for long-standing local fixtures — pubs, restaurants, social clubs — do not overlook the ACV lever: it will not stop the bulldozers, but it can slow their tracks long enough for a deal.
A city of memory and leases
What makes the Veeraswamy saga more than a footnote in the law reports is its symbolism. London renews itself by degrees — demolition by redevelopment, continuity by reinvention. But from time to time, a place becomes more than a parcel of land. It becomes part of the city’s memory, a fixed point amid perpetual change.
If the law of property is, at heart, the law of who may remain, then the story of Veeraswamy is a reminder that not every renewal should be resisted, and not every redevelopment deserves applause.
As for me, I hope the Crown Estate and Veeraswamy find a way to coexist — perhaps a revised lease, perhaps a reimagined entrance — something that honours both progress and history. London has room for both.
Until then, I shall raise a fork in salute to the old place — not merely for its duck vindaloo (though it was magnificent), but for what it represents: the enduring tension between property law and public affection, between redevelopment and remembrance.
For as every conveyancer knows, a city’s soul is not recorded at HM Land Registry — it resides in the places we fight hardest to keep.
Contact our Residential Property team
For more information about Bishop & Sewell’s residential property services please contact Charlie Davidson Senior Associate in the firm’s Residential Property team: cdavidson@bishopandsewell.co.uk or follow Charlie on LinkedIn.
The above is accurate as at 24 October 2025.
The content of this note should not be considered legal advice and each matter should be considered on a case-by-case basis.
