[Romantic Old Bird]

Meanwhile, back in Basildon, Mr Clarke tidies his desk for the weekend. His rubber band ball has been positioned at a perfect right angle to his blotter, and his post-its are strategically placed over the heat ring left by a carelessly placed coffee mug.

He sighs as he picks up a photo of himself and his mates on a boozy weekend in Dublin.

'That was blinding!' he thinks to himself wistfully, before reluctantly putting it at the back of his drawer. 'Only this time last year. Never mind Clarkey, those days are well and truly over!'

He dips inside his briefcase and fishes out the framed photo that Helen had given him only that morning. 'Bless her!' he thought, as he placed it carefully on the desk. 'I nearly forgot about this, and she was so excited when she gave it to me this morning. She must have been watching Blue Peter again!' He blew the pieces of glitter off the desk and sat back to admire her handiwork. 'Actually, she does show quite a bit of flair'.

'Very nice Paul, I particularly like the flowers. nice and sparkly!' said his work mate Elaine, as she walked up and leaned over him short-sightedly to look at the photo, dripping coffee on his shoes as she went.

'Cheers Elaine, thanks a lot!' he said. 'Yeah, sparkly. And Pink. Very pink. She does look sweet though, don't she?' asked Paul, smiling at the photo. Helen beamed back at him, eyes wide and head slightly on one side.

'What's so interesting over here? How's it going Paul?' As the head of design approaches, Elaine scuffles quickly off and Paul smoothly uses his touch sensitive screen to revert to the design he completed earlier.

'I think you'll like this Mike, I think you'll like it!' replied Paul.

'Mmmm, promising, very promising. Keep up the good work!' said Mike, heading for his own office, before turning to add 'Oh, and Paul?'

'Yes mate?'

'Nice picture!'

'Thanks Mike!'

'Welcome to the world of commitment!'

'I'm ready for it Mike. She's worth it!'

'Never thought I'd see the day!' said Mike, laughing to himself as he walked back to his office.
'They all fall, sooner or later'.

Paul clicked back on the TIBB bar at the bottom of his screen.

It had become compulsive reading for him first thing each morning, and again every evening before he left for home. Although sometimes he wished he had not found the site in the first place.

He had to admit that every time he read it, he was flattered. 'It's a bit mad' he thought, 'But, after all, they seem harmless!

Despite himself, he found a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead as he read the details of the virtual trip. They couldn't REALLY be planning this could they?

Just to be on the safe side, Paul decided to act positively, and went to Mike's office and to ask for a day's holiday on April 9th.

'Sorry Paul, I'd love to, but we've got this rush job on, deadline April 12th. In fact I was thinking of asking you in for the 8th'.

'Fair play, don't worry about it' said Paul, feeling rather silly for asking. 'I'll be here, no worries'.

'I knew I could rely on you Paul, good man! You've got that luxury pad to play for after all, haven't you!'

'Very funny mate, very funny!', replied Paul. 'What's the rush job anyway?'

'It's a new contract, very exciting development. I'm only just getting preliminary details in now, but the recommendation comes from the very top. It could be the start of something very big indeed!'

'Cool. That sounds cool! I'll be there for you' said Paul, returning to his desk.

'Good bloke, that Paul Clarke,' thought Mike, as he dialled the number in front of him. 'Glad I went with my instincts and took him back on'.

'Oh Hello! Is that the DTI? Oh good! I've been asked to contact someone called Mark? You are Mark? Excellent! Now about this trade delegation.......'

Meanwhile, returning to his desk, Paul forces himself to leave the TIBB site without looking again. He hums cheerfully as he completes another elaborate paper clip sculpture before closing down the computer for the weekend.

What on earth was he worrting about?
He really must stop reading those sites!