There were rumours of a burning bus at the bottom of Obiter’s home street last week, so it seemed prudent to stock up on a little Dutch courage on leaving Obiter Towers; and in doing so, Obiter caught a glimpse of the somewhat sanguine manner in which legal London had reacted to the threat of looting.

While there was no boarding in sight at the Royal Courts, the door to the off-licence at Fleet Street institution and lawyer watering hole El Vino had been locked.

So, to buy a bottle of red, Obiter had to step inside, where the finest legal minds were debating the disorder on our streets. Why, Obiter wondered aloud, was the off-licence deemed to be in danger, but not the bar? ‘Well,’ offered a chambers’ clerk from his stall, ‘it’s one thing to loot a shop around here, but it’s a brave person who approaches the [El Vino] Bar with an unattractive proposition and insufficient funds.’

Quite so.