As a fashionable London media type, TS was propping up a bar in Clapham one evening last week when our conversation (which ranged from the next Conservative leader to why baby polar bears make better pets than kittens) was interrupted by the drunken antics of a group at a nearby table.

Was it a birthday party getting out of hand, we asked our waiter?

No, he told us, as another tray full of wine and champagne was delivered, it was the monthly night out of [remove Big Four firm’s name from here – Ed. And definitely remove name of team – Ed’s lawyer].

Before long, the toilets were a no-go area with one team member being sick in one loo and another cubicle playing host to an overly amorous couple.

You just wonder what they hold in reserve for the Christmas do…