The Firm: law but so much more

My firm's occasional brainstorming meeting was held this year in a restaurant on the outskirts of Wisbech, Cambridgeshire in a street that had seen the full force of demolition contractors wielding bulldozers and large weights on cranes. The restaurant stood there bravely and defiant, the only building left amid a sea of destruction. It was a scene reminiscent of the bleak landscape of a Mad Max movie.

Just as our partners settled down beneath an illuminated picture of a waterfall (the water once appeared to flow but now was still) in the aromatic ambience of the previous night's cuisine to contemplate our navels and our future, so the representatives of the G7 countries were at the same time considering the future of the world economy and were no doubt also contemplating their navels.

There were 18 of us, peering at each other in the unaccustomed early light of a Saturday morning. We were charged with first reflecting on where we are now, and then imagining where we might be in five years' time '“ even though next week is as far into the future as most of us care to peer at the moment.

In true cinematic style, the picture of the waterfall (and us with it) dissolves with that liquid wobbliness that denotes a shift in time.

Cradle-2-Grave Law

It is now 1 January 2013 and every bit of the Legal Services Act is now in force. The newly completed headquarters offices of Cradle-2-Grave Law and Allied Services Solutions (not very affectionately known to all as 'The Firm') have recently opened their doors to the public. It is a vast building, taking up the whole length of a street that, a few years earlier, had looked like a bomb site.

The diminutive chief executive officer Sir Ebeneezer Asbo (his knighthood awarded for services to alternative business structures) is proudly showing round a group of reporters. He waves expansively at the huge domed area that greets all visitors. High in the air are gold-encrusted paintings in the style of Michelangelo depicting great legal battles. The floor is laid in bianco carrara marble. At the centre is a carved statue of a naked figure that looks not unlike a past senior partner holding a bunch of grapes in one hand and the scales of justice in the other. Radiating out in every direction are the corridors that are the various arms of this giant enterprise.

From the first corridor is emitted a warm light and the gentle sound of a Mozart horn concerto. Those who venture down it find their footsteps deadened by soft white carpeting. Operatives bearing the distinctive logo of The Firm hasten back and forth. Trainees once had to have knowledge only of law, but nowadays, following the collapse of much of the NHS, many are also medically qualified. Every now and then, those with acute hearing might discern a very small high-pitched cry as yet another baby is brought into the world through The Firm's Maternity Solutions Division.

Sir Ebeneezer next takes the reporters to a more bustling part of the building. Quaintly designed to look like a Dickensian street, this department provides everything everyone ever wanted to move from one home to another '“ an estate agent, a furniture warehouse and a removal division.

Sir Ebeneezer explains the 'one stop' philosophy of The Firm: 'here today, moved tomorrow'. The Firm's aim is to take the worry of house moving away from clients by making all decisions for them '“ including which house to buy and what furniture to put in it. A short questionnaire has to be filled in to determine whether the client has good, bad or appalling taste; then The Firm's limousine and fleet of vans will arrive on the appointed morrow to convey the clients from Bide-a-Wee to Dunroamin where everything will be installed in keeping with The Firm's assessment of what the home should contain.

Sound proofing characterises the next corridor. Here those who wish to resolve disputes are encouraged to partake in the hands-on approach to all manner of disagreements, but its method of dispute resolution is common to all. Whether it is sparring spouses, nagging neighbours or belligerent businessmen, the protagonists are encouraged to resolve their problems the old-fashioned way. There is a boxing ring for the most serious matters, but others may elect virtual combat on games machines (provided they agree that the computer's decision is final). It is hoped that this will prove so popular that people will invent quarrels so as to be able to take part in the resolution process '“ and pay additional fees.

Music returns along the next passageway. An altogether more sombre tone is set. Those clients who have made their wills with The Firm will have signed up not only for the executor and probate services, but also for the 'Testament to Tombstone' plan. As soon as the loved one has croaked his last, his remains are transported in a magnificent hearse to The Firm's Office of Rest where, with a solemnity suitable to the occasion, a funeral is held. The loved one's coffin is carried in by trainees chosen for their sympathetic expressions and strong biceps. Sir Ebeneezer tells the reporters of the plans to construct a crematorium in The Firm's grounds next year.

Start selling groceries

The last corridor is less grand. It leads to the legal department. The challenges from supermarkets have made this area of activity less profitable.

'Frankly,' says Sir Ebeneezer to the reporters, 'there is not a lot of money to be made in law these days. We have plans to start selling groceries from this part of the building. There is a need for this now as most supermarkets have their fingers in so many other pies that they have forgotten what they are there for.'

One brave reporter pipes up: 'But what if this whole venture doesn't succeed? I mean you have come a long way from providing legal services.'

Sir Ebeneezer replies: 'That's the beauty of it. We are so big and employ so many people now that the government cannot let us fail. If we don't get it right, the government will bail us out just like it did to the banks in 2008.'