Last month’s £10K test gave me a chance to catch up with one of the RS4’s predecessors, and what a shock it was to discover how far Audi has come in a little over ten years. I was on the launch of the RS2 and it was undoubtedly the company’s best drivers’ car since the Ur-quattro. It sounded wonderful, went hard and handled keenly, thanks in part to its many Porsche-developed components.

Now, I’m the first to admit that I’ve been spoilt by nine months in the superbly balanced, V8-engined RS4; very few current cars feel impressive straight after driving it. However, what struck me when I hopped into Jeremy Copp’s RS2 was how much more physical effort it took to drive. The beefy clutch and clonky gearshift highlighted this, and it was also a challenge to keep the gargling turbocharged five-pot on the boil. At least that’s how it felt for the first few miles – half an hour later I was much more impressed with its poise and benign all-weather handling.

The RS4’s lighter controls reflect a trend across the whole industry. Supercar buyers today simply wouldn’t accept a top-of-the-range Lamborghini with non-assisted steering and a gearshift that’s recalcitrant from cold and he-man hefty all the time, but that’s what the original Diablo demanded for access to the performance of its monumental V12. The latest 631bhp Murciélago is a pussycat in comparison and, similarly, although the RS4 has 100bhp more than the RS2, it is much less of a workout.

The caveat to this is that you still have to invest some effort finessing the RS4’s gearchanges. An engineer friend accurately described its driveline as ‘punishing’; if you don’t take care to match revs and smooth the clutch engagement you’re in for a jerky ride. However, having driven the RS4 for almost 20,000 miles, I recognise this demand of me only when I’m getting tired.

Meanwhile, Mrs B, whose interest in cars matches mine in shoes, quickly got the measure of the RS4 and drives it with commendable smoothness. She loves its integrity, its silky, subtle potency, which is why I’m seriously interested in finding out what our thrashed, abused and utterly neglected long-termer will struggle to make when we’ve finished with it this March. Around £20K sounds about right…