Sunday morning, 5.58 AM and Julian’s awake already. He leans over to the bedside table to turn the alarm off which is due to start blaring at 6. Best not wake up Alissa. Julian sneaks out from under the covers and pads down the landing in his boxers, stifling an expletive as he steps on a piece of lego on the landing floor, then silently curses the detritus of kids’ Games kit and school bags that greets him as he gets down to the hallway of the double fronted Victorian house in Wandsworth. A quick look in the mirror to check his paunch, then he’s in the large open plan kitchen extension. Extra strong pod in the Nespresso machine, Granola and yoghurt, glass of orange juice. He warms his bum on the Aga and pushes the dog’s nose away from his crotch.  All the while eyeing up the Pinarello hanging up on the black bull’s horns. He’s had it for 2 weeks now but can’t stop admiring it.