Tulkinghorn hears that there are ominous rumblings from Clifford Chance lawyers about the move to Canary Wharf. No, it's not about the abolition of the partners' dining room. Nor is it about all those expensive spare floors (tumbleweed optional). It's all to do with crates, apparently.
It seems that some of the big swinging dudes are vastly unhappy at the edict that all possessions have to fit into two crates – leaving precious little room for all those well-crafted deal trophies.
“Oh God, everyone'll be hiring their own white vans the weekend of the move,” a mole tells Tulkinghorn gloomily. “I bet I won't be able to get into the carpark.”
Meanwhile, Tulkinghorn is distraught to hear that Clifford Chance's takeover of Slaughter and May's old Coleman Street offices has been, frankly, ruthless. Fair enough, a lick of paint – but to get rid of the jelly babies? That's what we call regime change.