Far be it for Tulkinghorn to disparage the general fitness level of the legal profession in this country, but one of his scribes was interested to learn of Appleby partner Gray Smith’s recent ’exertions’.
It turns out Smith has a knightly neighbour in the imposing shape of former Olympic rower Sir Matthew Pinsent, a man-mountain who was once kind enough to provide generous assistance to Smith during a house move.
The Olympian rocked up with a van and proceeded to do all the heavy lifting while Smith, who pointed out that compared to the 6ft 5in, 17-stone rower he cuts a somewhat slighter figure, did his best to keep up.
Naturally, Smith glossed over the inequality of the tasks when his wife asked how the day went, but Tulkinghorn is happy to reveal the extent of Pinsent’s helpfulness.
Readers may recall a story in The Lawyer last year about a bunch of lawyers who enjoyed a team bonding evening over at the National Theatre’s production of Fela!
Well, Tulkinghorn has just learnt of another little gem from that night. It transpires that at the end of Fela! a procession of corporate villains are paraded on stage to a chorus of boos and whistles from the assembled throng. BP, Halliburton, RBS – they’re all there. As one Freshfields lawyer who happened to be in the audience put it: “Yep, they’re all our clients.”
Son and reign
Simmons & Simmons managing partner Mark Dawkins’ days in the top job may now be numbered – he’s stepping down in favour of Jeremy Hoyland in April – but at least one of his sons has found the time to be impressed by his activities.
The other day Dawkins’ second eldest Matt, who apparently “wants to go into clothing”, came into the office to do a spot of work experience and asked a Simmons insider: “So what does my dad actually do here?”
“Well, he’s the managing partner,” replied the lackey.
“Really?” came back Dawkins junior. “You mean he runs the place?”
Tulkinghorn heard of a couple of funds lawyers reminiscing about the joys of life oop North the other day.
He was amused to learn that lectures at the York branch of the College of Law are routinely interrupted by loud sounds from
the neighbouring racecourse.
Such is the proximity of the college to the track, apparently, that tutors must pause for the starting gun and the thunder of hooves to pass before resuming the lesson.
Now that’s what I call a lawyer
Could there be any better bunch of job titles than the top bods in the Isle of Man judiciary?
The three chiefs are known as First Deemster, Second Deemster and Deemster.
Beats ’partner’ into a cocked (and plumed) hat.