Charles had just had his appendix out, barely even 36 hours ago, and he wanted to go to the race to make sure Ollie was doing OK in his seat, to see Carlos, and to show everyone he was OK.

The doctors had told him to stay, his mum had told him to stay, you had told him to stay, but he was insistent. You had gone to the bathroom, but had come back to see him dressed with his Ferrari polo on.

"Look, I can't not go," he told you, giving you the puppy dog eyes he always used to try and get his way.