About this location
A few stories people tell about this place
1. Late one night, a delivery driver pulled up outside Mathys & Squire's office building. As he stepped out of his truck, he noticed an eerie glow coming from one of the windows on the top floor. Curious, he peered inside and saw only a dimly lit room with a lone figure hunched over a computer. ‘Delivery for Mr. Mathys,’ he called out softly. The figure turned around, revealing a sleepy-eyed lawyer in pajamas. ‘Oh, sorry!’ stammered the driver. ‘I thought you were…’ The lawyer yawned and waved him off, waving a half-eaten sandwich in the air. ‘Just another late-nighter.’
2. Late one night, a delivery driver pulled up outside Mathys & Squire’s office building. From inside, he heard an odd humming sound that grew louder with each passing minute. Curious, he crept closer and saw a small golden retriever sitting at a desk, diligently typing away on an ancient typewriter. The dog looked up, gave him a friendly wag of its tail, then went back to work. Turning around, the delivery guy found himself facing a sign reading ‘Night Shift Legal Assistant’. He laughed, shook his head, and drove off into the night, muttering something about strange offices in London.
3. Early in the morning, before anyone else stirred, a familiar figure walked into Mathys & Squire’s empty offices. A regular, he always came here for quiet reflection and coffee. But today something felt different—his usual cup was missing. He scanned the shelves until his eyes fell on an unfamiliar jar labeled ‘Special Blend.’ With a shrug, he poured himself a cup. The coffee tasted oddly sweet, but not unpleasant. Later that day, while reviewing documents, he noticed tiny bubbles floating in his drink. Turning around, he saw a grinning delivery driver waving from across the street. ‘Just trying out our new brew!’
4. Late one night, a delivery driver pulled up outside Mathys & Squire's office building. The security lights cast eerie shadows on the sign above him—‘Trade Mark Attorneys’—as he noticed something odd. A voice crackled over the intercom: ‘Would you mind moving your truck? It’s blocking our lucky charm.’ The delivery driver looked around, puzzled. In the dim light, an old man in a tweed suit emerged from the shadows and motioned towards a small brass rabbit perched on the ledge. 'It's been there since 1987,' whispered the man with a twinkle in his eye. 'Our good luck charm.' With that, he gently nudged the truck aside, and both went back inside, leaving the driver scratching his head and muttering about strange lawyers.