I drew several cards from my top pocket – the mast of a small luxury yacht was also sticking out, touching my nose when I bent over to count my toes. The first card that fell on the table said work so I packed myself up into a briefcase while a hugely oversized arrow penetrated the house roof. I spent part of the day standing like a sarsen stone on Salisbury Plain. The Women’s Institute were on manoeuvres with flashes of gun fire visible under raised skirts. I got in and then went out again.