At 11.45pm Mark closed his eyes. He pulled up his duvet close to his chin and revelled in the warmth of it.
He had a little daydream about winning the men's final at Wimbledon, Nadal being putty in his serve before sleep drifted him away.
At 9.15 Mark woke with a start. DAMN! He'd missed his alarm, overslept! Bleary eyed he started to stagger to the bathroom and crashed into a marble wall. Rubbing his head he gazed at the marble wall in a confused fashion. He didn't have any marble walls in his house. This made no sense. What sort of a person has marble walls in his bedroom? Who the hell could afford such a thing anyway? Perhaps he was having a weird dream, sometimes his dreams felt this vivid. They didn't usually hurt his head quite so much though...
'George sir?' came a quiet voice. He turned to see a small ginger woman in a maids outfit. She looked young, 19 maybe, timid in her demeanor. 'Are you alright?' she asked.
"I am" Mark replied, "but who's George?"
The maid looked perplexed. "You sir" she ventured.
This really was one freaky dream for Mark. He gazed in the mirror on the wall, it was certainly his reflection. Why did this strange girl think he was called George. Where the hell was he?!
As he looked round the room he had never seen a bedroom so lavish. As well as the marble walls, all the furniture was ornate to the point of ostentatious. This had never been Mark's personal taste, what with him being a nice chap who preferred the simple things in life.
The walls were covered in Beatles records. "Who likes the Beatles?" he asked, with a incredulous edge to his tone. (Again, not really his cup of tea.)
"You sir" the maid answered again, completely bewildered, "it's your job sir."
His job? Now Mark was completely confused. He was a vetinary nurse and he really had no idea what this strange ginger girl was talking about. And why did she keep calling him sir like he was her boss or something? It made him feel quite uncomfortable.
"You're a George Harrison impersonator" the maid added, "and I think you may have had too much to drink last night sir."
Now Mark understood, he had jumped into someone elses body. Like Quantum Leap! And he was here to sort out whatever rot this George Harrison impersonator had got involved in. Maybe he would save his life, win the femme fatale as his own!
"By the way, your mum is on the phone" the Maid added, handing him an iPhone 5. Mark wasn't even aware these were out yet. Who knew impersonators were so well paid and connected.
"Mum?" Mark asked.
"George love" she started.
It was his mum! He knew his mum's voice anywhere, it was her! It was Ruth! But why was she calling him George. Oh this made no sense.
"Mum, why are you calling me George, my name is Mark."
"Oh no love, we nearly called you Mark but your dad didn't like it. Changed it to George at the last moment. It's a good thing too really, because you became your wonderful super successful George Harrison impersonator self keeping your entire family in the lap of luxery. I'm sure if we had called you Mark you would have ended up a vetinary nurse or something... "