Only ten minutes to go… It was frightening. Stuart felt as though his whole life, the oh-so-charmed life he had led up till now, was about to flash before him in waves, one for each precious minute that remained. The flash cars, the diamond necklaces he had bought his lovely fiancée, the magnificent hunt balls at his country retreat. All over in a few more seconds of merciless living. His mind stole gingerly back to his former life, dim as its memory was. He had no desire to go back to that.

Bitterly he remembered his three fat, ugly brothers and the way they had forced him to clear up the horse's dung in the stables every weekend and do the dirtiest, smelliest jobs around the house. He remembered how they had smartened themselves up for the annual work Christmas bash and how he was condemned to stay behind, polishing shoes in the festive hearth.

Then came the wonderful day, his fairy godfather and the promise of ten happy years. At the stroke of midnight when the old year died and newness lay fresh in the air like newborn lambs, it would all end. He would return to his former life and nothing would remain for him. At this thought, Stuart put his head in his hands and sobbed.

There might be a way round it. There might. He had only six minutes left. If he left a Gucci boot from his previous life for someone to find and pick up, his fiancée might find him and match his boot to his foot, and take him away into the sunset. It was certainly worth a try…