I'm in my house, down on the floor as if hiding. It seems like a mixture of my studio and living room. A small boy about eight years old manages to sneak in a window and find me, reporting on a walkie-talkie that he has located me in Room Six.

Natasha was outside the door (I could see her shadow through the smoked glass panels) and I was avoiding her, but now she knows I am here, and comes in to force me to answer some question. I stay on the floor.