‘Oh, no. Long before that. Back in 1901. Kaiser Wilhelm’s mother was Princess Victoria, Queen Victoria’s eldest child. If the succession rules for British monarchs had been then as they have recently been changed to, stopping male preference in favour of the first-born of either sex, then she would have become Queen Victoria II when her mother died, instead of her younger brother becoming King Edward VII, and then Wilhelm would have become king of England six months later when she also died. It’s quite scary really when you think about it. We would never have had Queen Elizabeth II or the House of Windsor.’

‘But what has this got to do with us?’ Chico asked, clearly confused.

‘Nothing,’ I said, standing up. ‘Thanks for the history lesson, Charles, but Chico and I have to get going. We’ll pick Rosie up later. I’ve left some dog biscuits for her supper in case we’re late.’

Charles didn’t look at all happy at the prospect that we might be late.

We went north in the MY S1D Discovery, not least because I felt that I had already put enough miles on Marina’s Skoda.

All this driving up and down the country reminded me of the years I had spent as a jockey. Back in those days, I’d put seventy thousand miles a year or more on my car’s clock, riding perhaps at Newton Abbot in south Devon on one day, at Doncaster or Haydock in the north the next and maybe at Fontwell or Plumpton races way down close to the Sussex coast the day after. And so on, six or even seven days a week, most weeks of the year.

‘So where to this time?’ Chico asked.

‘We’re off to see the prime minister,’ I said. And hence he was all the more confused when I joined the northbound M1 at Leicester.

‘What happened to using the Red Telephone Hotline?’ he asked.

‘That’s a last resort. Only to be used when we absolutely have to.’

‘Don’t we absolutely have to already?’

‘Not quite.’

As we were passing Nottingham, my non-red black telephone rang. I answered it using the Discovery’s hands-free system. The call was from a breathless Marcus Capes.

‘Valance just called and told me to lose on Jahaz Bar.’

‘And will you?’ I asked.

‘I told him I wouldn’t. I said I would ride Jahaz Bar to win and that, in future, every horse I ride will be trying its best to win.’

‘And what did he say to that?’

‘He asked me if I was sure. Because he said he would post the video he has of me counting his bloody money on social media and send a copy to the BHA unless I did what he told me.’

‘And what did you say?’