The sun begins to descend on the paddock, tinting the sky with golden and orange hues. The hustle and bustle of the Grand Prix has died down, the mechanics are busy putting away equipment, and the drivers are heading for their motorhomes or the media. There you are, notebook in hand, still caught up in the adrenalin of the weekend.

That's when you spot Charles, still in his racing suit, the zipper slightly open to reveal the top of his T-shirt. He strides along, helmet tucked under his arm, greeting a few members of the team before meeting your gaze. A mischievous smile instantly appears on his lips.

He slows down and approaches you.

• Still working, huh? Or are you just hanging around to see me?