What I find relatively funny is that I'm not a model. I'm five foot six and a half; I have absolutely no dream or desire to be a model, I don't live for fashion. But when an opportunity comes your way very early in your career, like Burberry, you do it.

I believe there's a job in the fish factory for me. That's enough to get me through every audition.

I'm a bit of a nomad anyway, so I find it quite easy to settle in places very quickly.

You've got to be dedicated and throw yourself into parts and auditions in a way that is completely selfless.

If I'm working in the city, then as soon as I'm home, I try to lock in on my son for a few hours. Every day. I see how important it is that he's starting to come into my world now. It's just an effort to give him that male mode of being.

I guess in America we're so sold on this ideal of the perfect, well-adjusted family that is able to confront any conflict and, with true love and understanding, work things through. I'm sure they do exist, but I never knew any of them.

To be honest, after you've crossed the line at the Olympic Games, it is bedlam for the next, about, five or six hours. Media, press conference, dope control - you might get some food if you're lucky. You might see family if you're lucky.

Home is, I suppose just a child's idea. A house at night, and a lamp in the house. A place to feel safe.