There’s a rock in the garden, under which lies buried a toy soldier. If you crack an egg, on a clear dusky evening, in summer, after the rain has washed the day away, onto the rock, and if you make a wish, and keep it quiet and to yourself, and put it under your jumper, where no-one reasonable would think to take it from you. If you do that, and make that wish, and wish hard enough, and close your eyes and squeeze your hopes till they pop, then there’s a chance your wish will come true.