Tulkinghorn is known to enjoy the odd gentle ride out in the sticks on his trusty velocipede, but thanks to Linklaters, one of his scribes recently found herself in a fight for survival on a 100km bike race around the Surrey hills.
The hack took part in the City Sportive race as an honorary Linklaters team member under the inspiring captaincy of HR supremo Tim Winsey.
One or two technical issues early in the day meant that from the off she was slightly behind schedule. A bigger problem was that her bike fell to pieces on arrival at the start line, apparently in protest at the beckoning hills to which it had travelled in the snug boot of a car.
But luckily, thanks to the efforts of a very kind man at the HaveBike maintenance tent, front wheel, chain and brakes were soon reunited with frame and she was left without any more excuses.
The hills are a test even for the keenest of fitness freaks, but four hours in, with shaking legs, numb toes and a sense-of-humour failure rapidly approaching, the hack realised that even the busiest lawyer could cycle faster than she.
Still, she eventually teetered over the finishing line for a celebratory BBQ and beer. And despite her best efforts to slow them down, mighty Team Links won the event, scooping 12 golds, seven silvers and 23 bronzes.
Special thanks go out to Links’ freewheeling Captain Marvel Winsey.
Tulkinghorn obviously doesn’t condone making up quotes or sources. Neither does he approve of such accusations being levelled at competitors.
He had little choice, however, but to raise a puzzled eyebrow when he saw “Smith Gleeson, a partner at law firm Clifford Chance who specialises in banks” quoted by Dow Jones Newswires in a report on the liquidation of Southsea Mortgage & Investment Company, a miniscule Hampshire lender. The article made its way onto FOXBusiness.com.
Surely the reporter meant Simon Gleeson?
Yet the City high-flyer knew nothing of it when Tulkinghorn called. And the Clifford Chance website lists nobody by the name of Smith Gleeson.
Tulkinghorn’s reluctance to believe that the reporter could have invented our mysterious friend ’Smith’ leads him to wonder whether there might be a phantom Clifford Chance partner out there.
Anyone who’s moved house knows the stress involved, so imagine what moving office is is like for a 500-person law firm.
And stretch your mind further (if you can) to think what it must be like moving into a Grade II* listed building.
Well, that’s what Stephenson Harwood had to contend with when it relocated to One Finsbury Circus, whose facade is protected from redevelopment, in April.
When the building was acquired by Invesco Real Estate last month there were plans for a complete refurb job.
It was the facade’s listed status that made this a particularly tough project, but the boardroom was high on the list of priorities for a revamp.
Stephenson Harwood-branded wallpaper? Busts of longstanding partners? No wonder the culture secretary disapproved.
Repent all ye non-winners
Of course, few accolades in the world compare with winning one of the priceless statuettes up for grabs at The Lawyer Awards, but sometimes you can take things a bit too far.
Tulkinghorn can reveal that not so many years ago one City lawyer, disappointed at his shortlisting not being converted into an award, drunkenly made his way round the tables collecting trophies that winners had left unattended.
He and a friend ended up carting their ill-gotten gains around Soho (don’t ask), parading them as though they’d won the World Cup.
One of the desperate duo woke up the next morning with two trophies in his bed and, hung over and fuelled by guilt and panic, called up the victims of the drunken raid.
The Irish firm that won one of the gongs told him they’d come round with a bottle of champagne to pick it up. Unfortunately the magic circle firm the second trophy belonged to was less willing to see the lighter side of the situation, insisting the partner walk it round immediately or risk being prosecuted for theft.
Tulkinghorn is respectful of the partner’s honest attitude and so will spare his blushes, but blows a big raspberry in the direction of the magic circle firm that could have seen the funny side of things.