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I’m trying to tell you things in the order they happened, but sometimes everything happens at once.

We were in Utrecht getting ready for the Tour. It was the Wednesday before the kick-off on Saturday. Oleg phoned me up and said, “Peter, we need to talk about your contract.”

Still convinced I would be retiring at the first available opportunity, I was worried he was going to ask me to extend my contract on the back of my recent run of victories, or make sure I knew it was cast iron, as a lot of business gets discussed at the Tour de France and a lot of deals are done for new teams and transfers.

“OK, Oleg, what’s on your mind?” I answered nervously.

“We need to renegotiate it.”

“In what way?”

“We need to reduce it.”

This was a surprise. I didn’t think I could be surprised any more. My life has been full of surprises, and I thought I was fairly unshockable, but I admit my stomach flipped.

“Erm . . . why, Oleg?”

“Listen, Peter, I brought you to the team to win me some classics. I’ve got Tour riders, and that’s been great. But this year I’ve taken you on because I need Monument wins; that’s what I’m paying you for. And you were shit at the classics.”