John didn't know where he was. He looked out of the window, but nothing seemed familiar. The room was strange too. He didn't recognise any of the furniture. And his clothes, although they were a good fit, surely didn't belong to him? He'd never had a yellow shirt. Or a brown check jacket.

   As he sat on the padded wooden stool trying to puzzle out answers to all these questions, he slowly became aware of something in the back pocket of his trousers. Something hard. He put his hand in his pocket and pulled it out.