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“OK. Bye, Oleg.”

“Ciao, Peter, good to talk to you.”

Classic Oleg.

I called Giovanni, and we had a Team Peter powwow. Giovanni began to shuffle some legal arguments and go through the contract again just to make sure there were no loopholes for Oleg to exploit. We agreed that we should just keep our heads down and say nothing to anyone as it might just blow over. No reaction, no press, no response.

On the Saturday morning, with the first stage time trial that afternoon, Oleg came over and found me by the bus getting ready.

“Hi Peter, how are the legs?”

“Good, thanks, Boss.”

“Listen, that stuff the other day about the contract? Just forget about it OK; it’s all good.”

“Oh. OK. Thanks again. I won’t let you down.”

“I know, I know. And all this stuff about team instructions and riding like a domestique for Alberto? Fuck ’em. Fuck ’em all. Get me that green jersey.”

You had to laugh. Oleg Tinkov, what a character. But it did underline a serious point that never disappeared the whole time I was on the team: Who should I listen to? Who did I need to please?