‘In his hotel room,’ Cat replied. Alex tittered. The others didn’t.

The only time Jules Le Grand was going to leave Fabian Ducasse’s side was when the Système Vipère rider and overall contender for the maillot jaune was actually on his bike riding the course. The rider had all but sleep-walked to his directeur’s room at four in the morning to say one thing.

‘The Time Trial is a test of truth.’

For all Fabian’s outward arrogance and confidence, he needed the support of his directeur if he was to take yellow at the Time Trial that afternoon and define the ultimate outcome on the podium in Paris a fortnight later. Though Fabian had returned to bed and, amazingly, to a deep sleep, his directeur stayed awake for him. In silk pyjama bottoms, Jules had gazed out of the window witnessing night simper into dawn.

Fabian needs me to yell ‘Allez allez allez!’, to torment him, to demand that he ride harder for fuck’s sake.

Jules showered and shaved and treated his underarms and cheeks to liberal applications of Gucci toiletries.

Fabian also needs me to listen attentively when he repeats his concerns arid strategy for the course.

‘Often he does so in silence but it is always audible to me,’ Jules said out loud, wondering if 6 a.m. was too early to phone Système Vipère’s eponymous sponsor. He would leave it half an hour. No doubt his favoured journalist on L’Equipe would be glad to take a call.

‘Ultimately, it is the paternal support of the directeur sportif that the rider requires after a Time Trial,’ Jules said down the line to the reporter, ‘to lift his spent body from his bike, to be there for him whatever the outcome.’

‘Merci,’ said the journalist, hoping Jules Le Grand had not heard him stifle a yawn, could not envisage him as he was, crumpled, in bed and still half-asleep.

Jules was dressed in Gucci top to toe. He phoned the team sponsors.

‘Whatever the outcome, today,’ he told them, ‘Ducasse will ride the Stage as if his life depends on it which, to him, it does. The team are pleased that you will visit today to watch the Stage. It will be good for Jesper Lomers to see you.’ There was a pause. ‘Yes, yes, he is on the verge of renewing his contract – of that I’m sure.’

He’d better be – or Anya will have me to answer to. Not that she’s answered any of Jesper’s calls, I am informed. At the moment, that is not good for my rider’s morale. But I can turn it to the team’s advantage, I’m sure of it. When the time is right.

Jules Le Grand plucked at grapes from the fruit bowl and sipped at Evian from the minibar. He phoned L’Equipe again, making a well-rehearsed soliloquy sound positively conversational; so eloquent that the journalist could quote him word for word.

‘Today, Fabian Ducasse will not be merely going to work, doing his job, earning his salary. For Fabian, this Time Trial will determine his purpose on this mortal coil. He will challenge the demons within himself. He will emerge triumphant.’