‘Have you seen it?’ Ben laughed, holding aloft the beautifully bound press information booklet the Megapac PR department had produced for the Tour. ‘It’s a fucking novel! A cheesy, toe-curling, piss-takable collectors’ item.’ He took Luca’s blood pressure, unwrapped the band from the rider’s arm and then took a sample of blood from the crook of his elbow with no more ado.

Luca flipped through the booklet. ‘The media are going to love this,’ he said. ‘Have you seen the pamphlet Zucca MV produce? I thought the team looked ridiculous posing amongst the brick and cement of the sponsor’s factory. But at least their riders are wearing their kit and have their bikes. This bloody photographer took hours. They put make-up on me, goddamn!’

Ben took the booklet from him and found Luca’s page. The photograph flattered a face that needed no flattering. Underneath it was Luca’s ‘mission statement’. Under that, his biographical and career details. Ben skimmed through it and laughed.

I love riding a bike – the thrill of racing, the dream and possibility of winning. Being part of a team is like being part of a family. Racing for Megapac has been, well, MEGA! For our sponsors and our supporters, thank you – I’ll race hard for you.

Luca Jones

‘Did you write that all by yourself?’ Ben asked jovially, fond of Luca, six years his junior, looking on him as a kid brother.

Luca punched him lightly. ‘Some woman phoned me and we talked about bikes for an hour. Somehow, she got it all into four sentences. I was so impressed – and she had a very nice voice – that I asked her out for a drink.’

‘Unbelievable,’ Ben shook his head.

‘As old as my Mama!’ Luca rued. He took the pamphlet from Ben. ‘Ben York, a brilliant young British doctor,’ Luca read very theatrically, ‘whose wisdom we admire, whose care we are so grateful for, whose advice we trust, whose friendship we cherish.’ Luca regarded Ben, clicked his heels and saluted the doctor. ‘Hail, Mighty Medicine Man, my Lord, my Keeper, Great and Godly Giver of Vitamin B12 and Creatine.’

‘You know they’ve printed over 3,000,’ Ben informed him, taking the pamphlet from Luca to fan himself.

Luca nodded. ‘And have you seen the baseball caps and T-shirts? The journalists are getting them too.’

‘Not to mention the cereal bars,’ Ben elaborated. ‘You know they’re emblazoned with the logo and the words “as depended on by our brave team”?’

Luca’s jaw dropped. ‘I never bloody ate one in my life!’

Ben manipulated Luca’s ankles. ‘If you riders don’t impress the media, this treatise and accompanying branded freebies certainly will.’

‘We’re a friggin’ wildcard team,’ Luca exclaimed. ‘It was only confirmed we’d be racing the Tour a month ago.’

‘Megapac are a wildcard team only because they’re not ranked in the UCI top sixteen,’ Ben said, almost sternly. ‘It has nothing to do with the quality of the riders – merely that you’re a relatively new team and therefore have amassed no track record.’