Alan King: 'He's right where we want him at the moment - and when he's right, he's very, very good'

If Edwardstone were moving with the same fluency and ease as his trainer right now, the hubbub that's rising to greet the Cheltenham Festival would very quickly be drowned out by the crumpling of countless ante-post vouchers. You can hear it now: the sound of bookmakers, alerted by their moles on the Barbury Castle gallops, dismissively wiping off the 15-8 for the Champion Chase and chalking up 16-1 with a degree of confidence.

Alan King, you see, is not 100 per cent sound. In fact, he's 'done' both of his Achilles tendons and is looking rather scratchy in his slower paces, at a time of life when his faster paces have already deserted him.

The official line is that it's an "old sporting injury", but over a glass of good Barolo at his local Italian (the excellent La Strada at Broad Hinton, if ever you're passing) he confesses, in strict confidentiality, that it's the result of an ill-advised evening of disco dancing on holiday in the Maldives. I promise to keep it under my hat. What can I say? I lied.