London Seamstress, 81, Lived and Died in 1920s-Style Flat Where Time Stood Still

Grace Slan lived and died in a secret world where time stood still.

When police entered her two-room flat in London they thought they had stepped into another era, a museum exhibit or a film set.

Outside, planes buzzed overhead and traffic jammed city streets. Inside, the 81-year-old woman lived in a dark, solitary world without a bathroom, electricity or any modern convenience.

She had no known relatives or friends and had probably been dead for three weeks before her body was found.

“The flat was a revelation,” said Raymond Tiney, the coroner’s officer who investigated the case. “It was a museum piece of a typical working-class London flat of the 1920s. If a museum wanted to get their facts right, it was perfect.”

Tiney said nothing had been moved or dusted in years. Gas lamps provided the only light, an old-style stove the only means of cooking or heat.

Old newspapers littered the rooms. A 1926 edition headlined Britain’s general strike, another described Queen Elizabeth’s coronation in 1953. All the furniture, crockery and clothing dated from the 1920s.

A letter of reference postmarked 1923 showed that the woman had worked as a dressmaker. Neighbors confirmed that she left the flat every day for several hours, but no one knew where she went or how she passed her time.

Tiney had hoped that the publicity surrounding the inquest of the “time warp” woman, as she was described by the press, would jog someone’s memory to provide a clue to the mystery. But weeks afterward, no one had come forth.

“She didn’t invite any contacts and was dismissive and abusive (to anyone who approached her),” said Tiney. “Something happened that stopped her from wanting to take part in normal life.”

As far as anyone can tell, Slan’s last close relationship ended when her father died 30 years ago. They had lived together in the antiquated flat since 1914.

Apart from a three-month stay in a hospital in 1959, there are no medical records of Slan. Dr. Lorna Wing of the social psychiatric unit of London’s Institute of Psychiatry doubted that Slan was suffering from a psychotic illness.

“She was probably an eccentric. The varieties are legion, but this particular case is quite unusual and dramatic,” she said.

When Wing first heard about Slan, she immediately thought of Miss Havisham, the spinster in “Great Expectations,” the Charles Dickens novel. Havisham retreated into her own world after being deserted by her lover on their wedding night.

“They sound quite similar,” said Wing, a specialist in developmental disorders in children and adults.

“Both wanted it (their lives) the way it always had been. It’s amazing she (Slan) took it so far.”

Wing says life in London probably contributed to Slan’s reclusiveness.

“Cities like London, Paris or New York make it easier for something like this to happen,” she said. “It’s the very character of big city life. People do keep themselves to themselves.”

Slan’s almost total solitude was also not unique, according to Wing’s experience. “It’s unusual in the sense that most people are social creatures and want to be in touch, but there are others who don’t.

“Eccentricity is almost a British profession. It’s one of the oddities of this country,” she added.

Wing couldn’t explain why it is often said that there are more eccentrics in Britain than other countries, but she suggested that it is because odd behavior and nonconformity are not frowned upon.

“Here, people find eccentricity slightly pleasing and not threatening. Eccentrics seem to be more accepted here and have a more pleasant life on the whole. They are sort of mascots, almost.”

Reports of people sheltering huge numbers of animals, living as recluses or predicting the end of the world are quite common. But Wing did admit that Slan’s particular version was exceptional.