The great London lock-in

It's a pretty terrifying time to be a Londoner. The constant fear of terrorism and spiralling street crime are the new realities of urban life, or so it feels. So much for metropolitan mixed living - most of us would prefer a safe haven, somewhere to hunker down and keep the enemy at bay. Welcome to Paranoid London, a state of mind as well as a lifestyle choice. This urban siege mentality is generating a lucrative private industry from gated communities to private security staff, armoured cars and bodyguards.

For concrete evidence, look no further than the Royal Family. Fears of an Al Qaeda terrorist attack have, according to a recent report, prompted the Queen to install panic rooms at Windsor Castle and Buckingham Palace at an estimated cost of £600,000 each. Then there are Posh and Becks investing in a bulletproof car to guard against the threat of kidnapping. And last year, a pregnant Kate Moss attended a premiere at the Coliseum accompanied by no less than six bodyguards.

Fear of crime is rife among the rich and famous. Or maybe they're just more vocal about it. Elizabeth Hurley declared, after she'd been mugged eight years ago, that she would never feel safe on the streets until there were more police around. Alexandra Aitken and Jemima Khan were both said to be traumatised when their houses were broken into.

'I see this as a wake-up call,' said Jemima.

But it's not just London's high-profile citizens who have bought into Paranoid London. In recent months, estate agents have reported an increased demand for 'gated communities' --developments with underground parking, electronic gates and CCTV surveillance cameras --from younger professionals.

Unsurprisingly, fortress developments are huge in America, spiritual home of urban paranoia. In fact, eight out of ten city building projects in the US are gated. This is one reason why high-security Central London schemes are so popular with transatlantic buyers: home from gated home.

The home security trend that began with burglar alarms - alarmed houses in Britain have doubled in the past ten years from 13 to 26 per cent - has progressed to include sensor lighting and even moats.

'Five years ago this sort of design was used at 20 per cent of developments. Now it's present at 65 per cent,' says Fiona Sadek, an analyst at Residential Research.

Never, it seems, have ordinary Londoners been so conservative in their living aspirations - and so afraid of the dangers that lurk nearby. According to one recent survey carried out by the Royal Institution of Chartered Surveyorsfor the first time gated communities appeal more to Britain's younger population than the over-65s; 65 per cent of 18- to 24-yearolds believe that gated communities are a good idea, compared to only 44 per cent of over-65s.

Gated communities first came into vogue in the Eighties - a symbol of us-and-them exclusivity.

These were usually marble-and-glass affairs favoured by footballers. But over the past two years, more modest developments have sprung up all over London, often built around old churches and schools.

At the ultra-plush end there's The Bromptons, a swish hideaway in what was once part of the Royal Brompton Hospital on the Fulham Road. There are 5ft iron railings, CCTV cameras, smart cards and security guards. At the more modest end, there are developments like Millennium Harbour, a gated community of 300 flats near Canary Wharf with a porter checkpoint, electronic gates, swipe-card access and 24-hour patrols.

Estate agent Max Wilkinson, 27, has lived there for three years. 'I originally looked at this place because it was convenient for work and has a gym and spa on site,' he says. 'But living here feels very secure and relaxed. I'm much happier about my car - which had been broken into four times before I moved - and I like the sense of privacy and quiet.' However, Max, who shares his flat with his girlfriend and pays annual service charges of £1,500, does admit to feeling slightly cut-off. 'There's only one way in and out so you have to walk all the way round and things can get a little officious, but you get used to it. The porters do everything, from taking my drycleaning to looking after deliveries and keys.'

Feeling insulated is exactly what Gemma Johnson enjoys about living in the gated Bow Quarter community, just up the road from Max, in E3. She feels insulated against danger with 24-hour security presence, sensor-card access to the underground car park and the obligatory CCTV.

'I'm well travelled but the idea of living in a bubble quite appealed to me,' admits the 27-year-old entrepreneur, who runs a design agency and a company supplying fresh fruit to offices. 'I'm single and I like knowing that when I come through the gates I can wander around without worrying about safety. I also didn't like the idea of my car getting kicked and scratched on the streets. My last flat was in Maida Vale and one night someone tried to attack me in my car at the petrol station, which really shook me up.'

Gemma moved into her £165,000 warehousestyle flat, on the site of the former Bryant and May matches factory, six months ago. 'The motorway and DLR are close by but you don't hear them,' she says. 'The Quarter is almost countrified - with a pond, gardens and cobbled streets. Many of the 1,500 people who live here are single and I've made friends in the gym and at the bar. The area is mostly residential and there's not much happening. Usually I stay in the Quarter - which has a shop - or go into town.'

Meanwhile, Darrelle King, 41, jokingly describes Westfield, the gated community where she lives in Hampstead with her husband, Stephen, an accident management specialist, and student son Josh, as 'Fort Knox'. But, she says, the high level of security has provided new freedoms.

'We have remote-control clickers to open the gates and swipe discs for the communal doors. Even visiting family and friends must talk to a porter on the intercom to enter the underground car park, then give their names and registration numbers to reception.

'It's like living in a hotel - there's a gym and pool and the porters can't do enough for you. I don't carry up any shopping or empty the rubbish. It just feels safe, which is great for us because we go away a lot.'

The Kings bought their two-bedroom twobathroom flat off-plan for £400,000 three years ago, moving from Elstree, Hertfordshire. 'Our last house felt very open and, having been burgled elsewhere, I was always aware that anybody could jump over the fence,' says Darrelle. 'Here, there are cameras everywhere, high railings and walls and security patrols at night.'

Yet this desire for protection extends further than safe havens; the fear is what happens when you step outside. Earlier last year we heard about the arrival of neighbourhood patrols --security guards with dogs - on the streets of Kensington, courtesy of a company called Crown Protection Services. They now patrol the leafy streets of 15 well-to-do residential areas, from Battersea to St John's Wood. According to CPS operations manager Paul Barns: 'More people are paying for personal security as there is too much crime and not enough police tackling it. We have seen a huge rise in requests for private protection in the past 18 months. We are merely responding to it.'

Local residents say their decision to hire street patrols was 'an extreme measure', but they feel vindicated by the immediate drop in crime that followed the scheme's launch.

'We discussed getting CCTV for the streets but that does not actually stop crime from taking place,' one resident of Eldon Road, W8, explained soon after the patrols began. 'Then we talked about employing our own private security firm to walk the streets and it has gained a lot of support.'

Another said that the only negative reaction was the view among some homeowners that, after paying council tax and other taxes, they should not have to fork out more. 'The answer is very simple,' the resident responded. 'You pay for peace of mind.'

So what level of crime, I wonder, are they trying to prevent? I venture out on to the mean streets of Kensington one dark Saturday evening to find out. It's 10.15pm in Eldon Road and a former RAF dog-handler is marching a menacing Alsatian up the middle of the road. The locals here have come to respect Prince, Tubs and the other dogs that patrol their streets 24 hours a day. No wonder - they're paying up to £1,000 each for the privilege.

The three highly visible guards out tonight carry Maglite torches, walkie-talkies and radio links to the police control room. As they walk, they exchange waves with a passing armed patrol from the Met's diplomatic protection squad. Their brief: to keep an active lookout for suspicious activity and, unless they feel they can resolve a situation themselves, to call the police. So far they have dealt with nothing more serious than criminal damage. Last summer, they called police when they spotted a tracksuit-wearing stranger pushing a moped; the bike turned out to have been stolen, the man was arrested.

Such an initiative says more about perceptions of crime; in reality the majority of theft and violent crime still takes place in deprived city areas, certainly not the rarefied streets of Kensington and Holland Park.

Some critics feel that opting into this type of segregation isn't just about increased paranoia. According to Chris Webster, professor of urban planning at Cardiff University, these trends say more about our desire to feel we're part of an elite club than a fear of attack.

'People's expectations are rising,' he explains. 'Their tastes are becoming more sophisticated, they want a nicer environment.' And the more exclusive the better. Bodyguards, armoured cars and high-profile security also add to the social cachet.

Even journalist Petronella Wyatt, who was attacked last year for her diamanté hoop earrings after leaving a 'jovial' party at the Polish Club in South Kensington, admits that this costly style of self-protection isn't really the solution.

'What we really need,' she says, 'are more policemen on the streets. That's much more important than paying £1,000 for private security guards. Otherwise you create a vigilante culture where people feel the state is letting them down and they have to take care of things themselves.' Enough to make any Londoner retreat behind bars.