Nestled in a dingy side street behind the tourist Babylon of Piccadilly Circus lies a little slice of Formica heaven.

A place where egg and chip find happy union, a treacle pudding can be itself and a cup of tea is only 50p.

But it's the original 50s décor that most impresses in the New Piccadilly café. The yellow laminate tables, red leatherette booths and pink-enamel espresso maker have, over the years, welcomed in Soho gangsters, Hungarian dissidents, greasers with flick-knives - and Diana Dors.

While the clientele has changed, owner Lorenzo Marioni - here since 1951- and his uniformed staff are something of a Soho institution.

But in a plot twist worthy of the era's B-movies, The Café Where Time Stood Still is under threat from Invasion of the Nero Costabucks - faceless aliens who take over freeholds by a process of stealth.

A rent review looms in July, likely to push the café out of business. Unlike the powerful chains who dominate the surrounding streets, they cannot afford the crippling West End rents.

Get there before the 'Open' sign flips over for good.