Clare London Pop-Ups [2]
 YOU are our hourly winner!
The banner flashed at me, garish neon yellow, scrolling
across my laptop screen. Sitting at my PC in the corner of
the living room, I glared back at it. Right. Where was the
close down button? I may not have been the world s greatest
computer geek, but at least I could recognize spam when I
saw it.
 Just click here and find out what you ve won!
What the hell interest did I have in pop-up ads? Of
course I understood marketing. I knew I had to accept these
outrageously misleading campaigns as part of the consumer
world, though how and why they infiltrated even my
respected financial advisory sites, I d never know. But I d
never made a buying decision except as a result of sensible
analysis and assessment of all the options available. And
right now, all I wanted after an exhausting fourteen-hour
day was to pick up my email, to see if there was any news
from Sara, my sister-in-law. I wanted to know if she d had
her baby, if they were all okay. Also if the family was coming
back to the city in time for the holiday, if our annual family
get-together was still going ahead, if& .
Well, to be entirely honest, if I had somewhere to go for
Christmas.
 Good day, Can I trust you? Please get back to me this
holiday on business proposition.
Clare London Pop-Ups [3]
I rolled my eyes at the screen and glanced over at the
case propped up by the front door of my city apartment. My
luggage had been waiting there ever since my brother Tom
called to say it looked like Sara had gone into labor early
while they were up at her parents home. Mum and Dad were
with them, having gone there for a social pre-Christmas visit,
but now staying to help out with the birth arrangements.
Tom s call had been hurried and his voice excited, most
unlike his usual calm, cynical self. He d suggested I d better
wait for further news before setting out to meet them all.
Judging from the doctor s initial advice and the long range
weather forecast for that part of the country there was a
good chance they d all be stranded there for the holiday.
I understood how it was, didn t I?
Of course, I said I did. To be honest, Sara was as much
a sister to me as if we were related by birth, so I was pretty
tense about the baby thing, myself. But it was a
disappointment. I d really been looking forward to seeing
both her and Tom. As usual, my commitments hadn t
allowed me time off as the holiday approached, although my
boss had all but insisted I kept bookings to a minimum over
Christmas itself. He muttered something about the difficulty
of closing the office for a couple of days, when I was being a
complete workaholic. Or a word that sounded similar. So I d
been virtually forced to schedule in some family time for
once.
But what was I meant to do now? My boss had been
closing and locking his office door even as I picked up my
jacket. The only place I had left to wait was back in my
apartment.
Clare London Pop-Ups [4]
Just keep me posted, I d said to Tom. I d make other
plans if needs be. And I usually enjoyed the bustle and buzz
of the city. It was just& .
 All glitter supplies for Christmas available now. Have
you hung your star this year?
I looked around the living room of my apartment. Didn t
take long. It looked calm and plain, no different than any
other time of year, really. Couch with neat, tastefully covered
cushions, polished side table with small but efficient lamp,
modest bookcase on one wall with my reference manuals
and certificates of qualification on display. I hadn t bothered
with any Christmas decorations, as I d been expecting to be
back at my parents house. To be honest, I didn t ever
bother. Vacations weren t my thing, let alone the festive
ones. A couple of early cards from business contacts and
office supply vendors were on my mantel, and that was it.
 Fun party animations for all your social networking
needs! 1000s of smiles and winks, free for a limited time!
I glared back at my case as if it might have something to
say about my situation. It was often packed, often ready to
go at a moment s notice. As Investigations Manager at a
financial services firm, I went where the contracts were. It
was a lifestyle characterized by tight deadlines, liaison with
senior executives in all industries, and often the potential for
uncovering major fraud. Very exciting, of course, if you could
keep up with the pressure which I d proved I could. The
senior partners in my firm often praised my willingness to
work unusual hours, to travel at a moment s notice, when
other employees balked at it. I was surely on line for a
partnership myself one day.
Clare London Pop-Ups [5]
Even if Tom still rolled his eyes and mouthed  bean
counter to my mother behind my back.
 Great Prices on Timeless Masterpieces. Call today!
I frowned at a new batch of pop-ups and stabbed at my
keyboard, trying to get the little  x to respond. Of course, I
had to admit there were disadvantages to this jet-set,
trouble-shooting lifestyle. Nowadays, I always seemed to be
tired, or coming down with a version of the flu. Plus, working
such long hours meant I didn t have a local circle of friends.
I d lost touch with most of my school buddies. I struggled to
get back home for family events, whereas Tom and Sara had
more routine jobs near my parents and were always on
hand. And dating& well, that was a bit hit and miss for me.
More miss than hit, actually. Thank God I had some regular
fun with& .
Henry.
 Only minutes left to claim your unique prize!
The banner on my screen blinked and shimmered,
leaving hazy spots in front of my eyes. It still wouldn t erase.
The X was on strike, or something. It seemed to be grayed
out. I didn t usually have this much trouble. I tried Ctrl, Alt,
Caps, then in frustration all three together. I d never been
very good at technical issues, software or hardware, just
good, solid hard work. That was, of course, greatly
appreciated at the office, even though my boss had made
some not-so-veiled comments at my last appraisal about the
counterproductive effect of long hours and the shortsighted
fear of never taking risks. Obviously he was covering those
areas with all the managers, not just me. The tapping of my
keyboard sounded more like hammer strikes, and a nagging
Clare London Pop-Ups [6]
pain started up in my left temple. Of course, Henry was the
guy for this, really, with his unruffled calm and his almost
spooky skill with these damned machines, instruments of
the devil that they were.
Then the pop-ups started increasing with a vengeance.
 Upgrade your cell TODAY!
 I lost 20 pounds in a month sitting in my arm chair, and
YOU CAN TOO!
 What I m going to do today is to reveal the secret of
eternal life and unmatched health!
 Can Snoring Kill? Surgeons say  Yes 
 Your new size tool will change everything!
I groaned aloud. Some people needed to get a life, rather
than spending their time creating havoc on the internet.
These things were often amusing but not tonight. I really
didn t have the time to navigate my way around puerile
sabotage. Maybe I was more tense than I thought about
Sara s imminent baby. Or I was still brooding on my latest
investigation. My client s year end was approaching, and the
financial horrors were starting to emerge from the woodwork
like worms on a wet lawn. The previous accountant had left
without notice, but with most of the pension fund, the
computerized ledgers had been corrupted and were spewing
reports in something that looked like Mandarin, and three
years of unfiled tax return papers had just been found
scrunched up under a pile of Stephen King thrillers in the
cupboard of the downstairs toilet. Maybe that wasn t
everyone s idea of thrill-a-minute, but it kept me fully
occupied.
Clare London Pop-Ups [7]
 Are you getting enough sun? my mother said last time
we met, peering at my eyes behind my tinted glasses.
 She means, get a life, Jack, said Tom, smiling wryly
behind her.  Or get laid, he mouthed at me, after Mum
turned away.
But I had a life, thanks. I just chose my own way to lead
it. I frowned at the mess on my screen, which looked more
worrying by now. I needed to call Henry, ask him to do his
technical magic on it. He d tried to explain to me his
particular branch of IT expertise, but it was an alien
language to me. He was obviously highly respected, though
I d once caught a glimpse of a letter to him from the FBI.
Whereas I d have worried it was something to do with one of
the complex tax avoidance schemes I investigated, Henry
had smiled and said he really didn t have the time to consult
for them again at the moment. Again, he d said.
The fan in my PC whirred loudly. There was probably
time to defrag it or whatever Henry called those arcane
rituals he performed now that I wasn t going away. I
glanced at my watch. Really, I should ring my boss, despite
the late hour, and let him know I d be in town after all over
the vacation. I could follow up some of the corrupted prior
year audit trails& .
 A better work life balance proved to lower cholesterol
and cure hypertension.
I leaned back in my chair, unusually restless. Get laid,
Tom had said. Ever since adulthood, that had been his
answer to everything, a life of hedonism and chaos, at least
until he met and settled down with Sara. He d certainly
taken his own share of adventure as a young man, whereas
Clare London Pop-Ups [8]
I d always had my work, my ambition, my pragmatism. Our
different attitudes had always been a joke between us, but
nowadays it was getting old. And anyway, I already had& .
Henry.
About that hypertension? I dragged my attention back
to the screen, massaging the pain in my temple for a few
moments, aimlessly scanning the ads blossoming all over my
screen. Eternal life and unmatched health I probably
needed some insurance for them. It had been a good year for
my bank balance, but I hadn t given much thought to rest
and recuperation. The workload at the office had demanded
my constant attention for many months now, even though
some of my colleagues thought they could get away with far
less commitment. What else? My cell phone was fine, albeit
an old model, not that I used it much outside work. And I
didn t think I snored much I was sure Tom would ve told
me, the times we d shared the spare room at Mum s since we
both left home and weight loss? I looked down at myself.
Not a problem, really. I usually forgot to eat when I was so
busy.
 Every man w*ants to h-ave ultimate co+ntrol o.ver hi+s
own sexual acti-vity .
I pursed my lips. Good God. My fingers traced an
imaginary cursor, filing that one alongside the  your new size
tool one. My current size tool was perfectly okay, thank you
very much. As far as I knew, anyway. And the ultimate
control issue? Too much information, in my opinion.
A fresh wave of pop-ups appeared, depressing me
afresh. I groped on the table to find my cell phone. Henry
hadn t left for the holiday yet, had he?
Clare London Pop-Ups [9]
 Recipes from the stars for the holiday season! Who s
cooking your goose this holiday?
I grimaced. At the moment, I had no damned idea, did I?
Mum usually cooked the Christmas dinner for us all three
siblings, two spouses, assorted friends but now I wasn t
sure whether she d be back in time. I couldn t even
remember where Sara s parents lived. Somewhere north. I
had a pretty good idea of the relative worth of their
investment fund, because I d helped them out with some
advice last year, but for the life of me I couldn t remember
their address.
I shifted on the chair, my stomach giving a quiet
grumble, reminding me I d sorely miss dinner at Mum s.
There were plenty of excellent restaurants near the
apartment, and I was sure I d find an exotic gastronomic
delight there instead. Funny how that didn t excite me the
same way as the thought of Mum s roasted potatoes. They
were unsurpassed. Mind you, compared to my cooking,
anyone s were. I tried to recall what I had in the fridge, in
case I ended up catering for myself. Not much, because I d
been expecting to leave work early tomorrow to travel. I
remembered the last time I d tried to cook a full dinner here.
I winced.
That was how I got to meet Henry. It s not every man
remains calm when smoke from their new neighbor s
apartment sneaks under their own front door and chars the
paper in their hallway. Even fewer men would come to the
door, knock gently, and ask if I needed any help? I had
trouble replying at the time because I was choking on the
fumes, and I d already set the oven glove alight twice. I
Clare London Pop-Ups [10]
remember the startled look in his bright blue eyes as I
lurched to the door with eyes streaming and a lock of hair
slightly singed he was probably assessing the potential
danger, trying to decide whether I was a pyromaniac or just
simple then he took control. Electricity turned off, water to
put out the flames, the windows opened to dissipate the
smoke.
He stayed afterwards, apparently to assess the damage
and help clear up. He kept asking if I were okay. We got
talking, and eventually laughing at the disaster, and I said
we should have supper together as we were becoming fast
friends. I think I d just been joking, but as the words came
out of my mouth they struck me as one of the more sincere
things I d said for a long while. Henry had moved in only a
couple of weeks before. He was good looking in a very
outdoorsy, healthy living type way. Strong, broad shoulders,
muscular build, dark tousled hair. And rather excitingly, I
was sure I picked up on mutual attraction between us.
Needless to say, we got takeout! We ate hungrily and
chatted both easily and happily. And later on, the room still
smelling faintly of cleaning fluid, and the TV flickering its
way through a disaster movie neither of us was really
watching, he tentatively put his arm around me.
I found myself smiling at the memory. It had been a
good evening. Comfort sex was as rewarding a type as any,
right? I mean, it s not as if I were a virgin or anything, but
it d been a while since I& well, anyway, Henry didn t push,
didn t overwhelm. Just that same calm, unflappable
approach that he d shown when I nearly accidentally burned
down my home. He undressed me, and made very flattering
Clare London Pop-Ups [11]
noises of pleasure, and for once, I didn t have to worry about
setting the ground rules or being in charge.
It had been very good, actually. But it was just
something casual and friendly, we both agreed. No strings. I
said I didn t really have the time or energy to offer anything
else. Henry had just smiled and nodded.  Whatever you
want, Jack, he said, his eyes following me closely as I got
dressed again.
We met plenty of times again after that. He did a few
repairs, sometimes cooked for us both, sorted out the IT stuff
on my home system, and in return I did his taxes. And
sometimes we met for fun. We played squash, we watched
movies, we listened to music. And often we had sex
relaxing, exciting, rather eye-opening sex. Surprisingly,
Henry knew a lot more about technique than I did, though
none of his comments or suggestions ever made me feel
clumsy.
One night, he asked to stay over at mine. Smiled rather
ruefully while I blustered about how I had an early start and
how I didn t want to disturb his sleep.
 That d be okay with me, he said, quite simply.  But
only if you re comfortable. Comfortable? I couldn t
remember anyone asking that before, since Mum had tucked
me in bed after a fall from my bike. I d just stared at him for
several moments, clutching some tax return papers in my
hand, knowing I d been rambling on about capital
deductions and brought forward losses for the last half hour
and wondering how the hell he could look so cool and sexy in
the face of what must have been total boredom. And realizing
I wished I d asked him to stay over, and well before now. I
Clare London Pop-Ups [12]
felt my throat tighten up at the thought of him in my bed all
night.
We had sex again, in the middle of the night, which was
thrilling. And the menu at breakfast wasn t my usual black
coffee and toast, but something much more fabulous and I
don t just mean the mocha coffee with cream on the top that
Henry brought me in bed. I genuinely don t remember if I
was late to work that morning.
What I did remember was that Henry rolled up against
me in the night and we hugged together for quite a long time.
At first it startled me, as if it had been a long time since
anyone did that. And then, having remembered rather
shamefacedly that it was a long time, I decided to relax into
it, and things were fine.
 You re great, Jack, he d whispered.
I was pretty sure he wasn t talking about my ability to
uncover the pattern of off-balance sheet financing, though
that s the only thing anyone had ever praised me for before.
 You don t need to flatter me, I d whispered back.  I don t
approve of sentimentality.
 No problem, he murmured.  It ll come. Then he d
smiled at my confusion and kissed me steadily back to
silence in the darkness. I didn t ask him what it was he
thought would come.
After that, he stayed over quite often, and it seemed to
suit us both very well. Of course, it was just something
casual.
I soon learned that Henry was extraordinarily smart but
he lacked& well, drive. Purpose. Or so I often told him, when
Clare London Pop-Ups [13]
I tried to explain the satisfaction of completing a forensic
audit, or achieving a performance bonus target to the eighty-
fifth percentile. He could have commanded a hell of a salary,
but instead he did just enough work to keep him financially
afloat, and spent his leisure time rock climbing and abseiling
and trudging the savannah plains with a blanket and two
sticks. Or something equally astonishing to me.
I often found myself at home to greet him when he got
back from a trip. Just coincidence, really. But it was a
fascinating pleasure to see him return looking tanned,
healthy, and so relaxed. And smiling at me. I d try to help
him unpack and clear away his things, but he d just drop
the bags in his hall then follow me into mine, chatting about
where he d been, what he d seen, his hand on my shoulder.
He was always very tactile. So very unlike me and my life, it
was amazing we got on so well, right? When I talked about
my work, he had a way of raising his eyebrows that was
tolerant but slightly amused. It made me smile. A lot of what
he did made me smile; made me feel much more relaxed. He
was good at that. He was good at many things& .
 Last chance to win! What have you got to lose?
My concentration had wavered, and the spam had
multiplied again. Henry would roll his eyes at this latest
disaster. He always said I spent too long on the screen; all
day at work, then my evenings surfing the net. Such
discussions usually deteriorated into me becoming defensive
and his eyes softening with inexplicable concern. He often
asked me to go with him on his adventure trips but, really, it
wasn t my thing. I mean, any day now I was going to sign
back on at the gym, so I d get my exercise that way. Besides,
he didn t need me dragging down the rest of the group.
Clare London Pop-Ups [14]
 What group, Jack? he once said, a slight frown on his
brow.  I m only asking you.
I doubted that. I knew he was a member of several
sports and trekking clubs. I was pretty sure he was a very
popular man, and not just with FBI geeks. But I found
myself strangely reluctant to hear about his other outdoorsy
friends and probably boyfriends, so I changed the subject
to a new banking fiscal policy update.
That elicited more smiles from Henry. I was obviously a
source of amusement for him. But strangely, I found I didn t
care, so long as he still came around, and we still had as
much& fun.
I shifted uncomfortably on the seat. Ergonomic design
couldn t compete with a sudden throb in the groin area.
 Anti-Terrorist And Monitory Crime Division wants your
attention, now!
I should call him up, though not for sex, I d hasten to
explain. That just seemed to happen of its own accord. A lot.
But I liked his company in all kinds of other ways, too. I
glanced at the calendar then back to the screen. Henry was
leaving tomorrow for the vacation, the same day I d been
planning to go away. But whereas I d been heading towards
my Mum s roast potatoes and twenty-four hour baby talk,
he d arranged another of his pioneering expeditions.
He d told me about a little cabin up in the hills that was
barely large enough for a bed, with only a couple of thick
woolen blankets to sleep under, and a tiny stove for meals.
He d been there before and from the light in his eyes when
he talked about it, he d found his perfect Christmas
hideaway.
Clare London Pop-Ups [15]
 What on earth will you do there? I d asked.  Is there
Wi-Fi access?
That had earned another roll of the eyes from him.  I ll
walk the hills, he said,  and watch the snow& 
 Snow?
 & and I ll huddle up to the stove at night to think about
the year just gone, and the year to come. He d caught my
semi-horrified gaze, and smiled.  All the pleasure I ve
discovered, all the exciting hopes I ve found for the future.
Exciting hopes? Well, that was what he told me. The
light was still in his eyes as he finished talking as he gazed
at me in some kind of expectation.
 On your own?
He shrugged, still watching me.  It s big enough for two.
 Are you sure? I d laughed, rather thoughtlessly.  No
transport, no nearby restaurants, no heating?
 Nothing like that.
I shook my head.  I can t think of anything less
inviting.
Henry didn t say anything but it was as if his sparkle
faded a little. I felt really bad about it for quite some time,
but I was never sure why that was or what to say to him to
apologize.
We were just friends. It was just something casual.
He d be going there again tomorrow. Rather
disturbingly, I found myself wondering if he d be on his own
or have a holiday roomie. Someone who liked being cut off
Clare London Pop-Ups [16]
from human contact for days, not able to check the share
prices, not able to keep up with budgetary analysis. Or
someone who liked snuggling in front of a warm fire, sharing
a woolen blanket on Henry s bed& .
I was feeling bad about it again now, but it seemed for
rather different reasons.
 Calling all fun-loving singles! Looking for your own
personal gift from Santa?
Mum often asked me,  Are you seeing anyone, Jack?
 His reflection in a computer screen, Tom would
mutter.  Love s young dream. Not.
For God s sake, I wasn t looking for love. It caused as
much misery as pleasure, as far as I could tell, whatever
Tom and Sara protested, whatever the TV tried to persuade
me. Look at what I had with Henry, how well that worked!
And without the emotional tangle of love. Delightful sex, by
mutual agreement, accompanied by plenty of happiness.
Heavens. A lot of the angst-filled romantic liaisons I heard
about in the office could learn a lot from my experience.
 Shocking new online dating statistics warn us about the
dangers of careless use of the Internet.
I resisted clicking the link to see the inevitable luridly-
colored bar chart. I remembered Henry had made some quiet
inquiry once about whether I was online dating. When I d
told him I didn t really have time for dating, on or off line,
he d looked quite thoughtful. I assumed he was worried
about me sharing my credit card details online, with his
usual concern for my security.
 sayMen whoAre Bigger are a bitMoreFUN
Clare London Pop-Ups [17]
Good grief, I certainly did need Henry. To take a look at
my PC, that was. I peered at the colorful windows, the
swirling graphics, the bouncing animations. I couldn t help
remembering all the evenings Henry had sat in front of this
machine, cleaning me of viruses, recovering files I d dumped
accidentally in the  bin . Tidying up my temporary files,
updating my applications. It was as much a mystery to me
as aged receivables analysis was to him. He d spent a lot of
time, helping me out. A lot of time making me laugh,
reassuring me I hadn t lost four days work at the careless
push of a button, then sharing a beer afterwards, chatting
through our day. Explaining what he did, even if I didn t
understand. Sharing his next holiday plans, even if all I
contributed was how to prepare a sensible spending budget.
Showing interest in me, which was probably more than I
deserved. I was always so busy at work, I didn t have the
time to spend on others in return. That s what kept me from
dating properly, of course.
 What does dating mean to you? You too could share
your today and your tomorrow with that special person!
Sharing today and tomorrow. Funny how that sounded
a lot like Henry and me.
And then the devil got into me. Maybe I was feeling sorry
for myself about the holiday maybe I was thinking about
Henry having to come around and sort out my technological
trash, and why the thought of his company filled me with
more pleasure than embarrassment. Why my frustration at
my thwarted holiday plans and the tension after a hard day s
work seemed less critical than catching up with Henry before
he left for God knows how long. Leaving me behind to spend
Christmas on my own.
Clare London Pop-Ups [18]
Whatever the reason, I couldn t tear my eyes from the
banner s continual flashing.
 Time up, time up, hurry, hurry! Your deadline
approaches!
What was there to lose, after all? A bunch of work files
which after Henry s persistent advice and training I d
backed up last night? My not exactly state-of-the-art PC? I
peered at the neon bar, leaning into the screen as if it
beckoned me on. It was only a website, wasn t it? I thought I
might take a chance. Take a risk. Good God, I could hear the
echoes of my boss s lecture on shortsighted fear, and I felt
something give way in my chest, like a rubber band splitting
apart. My heartbeat increased but I breathed deeply, and the
rush of oxygen to my brain felt exhilarating. My hand
wavered over the keyboard. I d always wondered exactly what
would happen....
And I clicked on the  You are our hourly winner!
banner.
*
I don t know what I expected. Smoke? Sirens? Those
funny pixel things, slowly peeling away the pictures on
screen? At the very least, another huge advert. A promised
prize, if I just bought this item, if I just took out this
Clare London Pop-Ups [19]
subscription, if I allowed them to bombard me with offers of
an Enlarged Penis for the next six months& .
That wasn t what I got.
Instead, I got a slowly unfolding checklist, with a
monstrous smiley emoticon at the top.
 Congratulations you have won an exclusive prize!
Complete this questionnaire only takes a matter of seconds!
Just let us know what kind of person you are, so that we can
choose the prize to match your personality!
God, but I hated emoticons. I d told Henry about it
many times, about the schoolboy humor they represented,
about the unprofessional images they inserted into text
messages which were really there to impart knowledge.
Right?
But I loved questionnaires and polls, and market
research lists, and anything like that. It was a strange,
rather embarrassing little vice. Henry had caught me once,
filling in a poll about sandwich fillings, of all the ludicrous
things, and we d both ended up laughing about it.
I started to click away.
Age; gender; height; hair color. Straightforward.
Favorite sports; favorite film; favorite book& . I had no
hesitation with any of these, either, because Henry often
persuaded me into rather silly  lists like this. After a while, I
realized he always guessed my preferences far more quickly
than I guessed his. It was strange that a man who was so
easy-going and footloose could have so many layers of
discovery inside.
Clare London Pop-Ups [20]
But anyway, we usually found a number of favorites
that we shared, and I d never bothered to delve into the game
any further. That s all it was, of course, a lightweight game.
Click, click. This was a much quicker response than
waiting for my email, and the pop-ups seemed to have been
banished completely. All that appeared were tasteful
messages on a pale background.
 Thank you for your cooperation.
Far more polite now, as well.
 Please wait a few moments while we process your
response!
I groaned to myself. What the hell had I been playing at?
This was obviously where it all went pear-shaped. The whole
thing was just another virus scam it d grind my whole
system to a halt, and I d have to drag Henry around here
again, just as he was packing to go away, and ask him to
take my PC to bits and crank it up to speed again. I couldn t
manage all through Christmas without internet access,
without communication, without company. Without& .
The small circle of dots whirled silently in the middle of
my screen.
Without Henry. How many times had Henry been
around to help me out, this month alone? It had to be six at
least. Always coming around to give me one. A reboot, that
was. And each time, I d find myself fussing around the
apartment, making him expensive coffee that he didn t drink,
and leaning none-too-helpfully over his shoulder while he
tapped away and sighed at my excessive list of cookies and
documents saved all over my desktop. Of course, I was lucky
Clare London Pop-Ups [21]
that he always seemed to have free time to come when I
called. To the apartment, that was.
I felt overly warm. The circle continued to spin. How
come I d never examined just how much of Henry s free time
he spent with me? What did his other friends think of that?
How selfish I d been, assuming that just because I had time
to spare, everyone else had to fit in with it. And I was still
clinging to him, even now, with Christmas mere days away
and his own adventure all planned for him.
The circle of dots was fading slowly around the edges.
The plain screen was being replaced by scenery, as yet too
pale for me to make out. I wondered if I should go and make
a coffee for myself, or even open a beer. Or throw the
damned thing out of the window.
But the message was back now, flashing in garish
purple across the screen. Which was embarrassingly one
of my favorite colors. One night last month, Henry had called
around after I came back late from work, before I d had a
chance to change out of my clothes. His eyes had widened at
the sight of me in a suit.
 Is it the tie? It s new. It s not too bright, is it? I was
worried that a purple tie wouldn t be suitable for the office,
and I d have to take it back to the store.
 It s excellent. He nodded, his gaze flickering between
the tie and my face.  All of it is. It suits you.
I felt oddly excited at that. I was even more excited when
he closed his large, strong hand around the tie and tugged
me against him for an unusually hard kiss.
Clare London Pop-Ups [22]
That had been another very good night. In private
dreams, I imagined I could still feel the knot against my
wrists.
The screen flickered again.  Congratulations! You have
won a Christmas holiday break! Please complete the following
page to discover the exciting location for your trip.
My heartbeat sped up a little. But it was just a joke,
wasn t it? No one actually won these things. And even if I
had there d be a catch, wouldn t there? I could only take
the holiday between the hours of three and four a.m.; I could
only take the holiday if I had a Y in my name; I could only
take the holiday if I shared a room with seven other families
and a herd of incontinent goats& .
But what the hell. I leaned over the keyboard and kept
tapping.
 Welcome! The swaying lettering simpered at me. It was
almost hypnotic. Henry had offered to teach me to use
WordArt on my presentations, but I d never really paid
attention.
How rude of me! It struck me quite suddenly. All the
time he spent on me, and how casual I d been in return. And
yet I looked forward to each and every occasion he came
around, whatever we did.
 Please choose a favorite location from the drop-down
box.
Well, a game was a game, I supposed. I rolled up my
shirt sleeves and settled down further in the chair. I thought
I d choose one of the major cities. Perhaps a luxury hotel
Clare London Pop-Ups [23]
complex. An all-expenses paid transatlantic flight. A tour of
Europe. I peered at the choices.
What the hell?
My choices consisted of  Own home / Small village in
the hills. I tabbed around the box in vain, trying to find
something a little more exotic, but no luck. Had all the other
options been allocated? Or wasn t the web site working
properly? Well, I d just been moaning about the fact I may be
left at  own home for Christmas, so I had to choose
something else. I clicked the  small village with a rather
resigned sigh. The background picture started to fill with
color. Rolling hills appeared, the grass lush, the sun misty
with clouds in a pale blue sky. Birds wheeled over the fields;
there were a few small buildings dotted on the horizon.
Nothing else.
I shivered slightly, though the room wasn t cold. I didn t
usually have much time for nature in all her glory. I always
had places to go, things to do in the busy city. But this
Christmas, I d been abandoned, hadn t I? I realized no one
had called me from work as they often did in the evening.
Obviously they believed I really was on vacation. Yet I had no
other place to be, just sitting here, waiting for an update
from Tom. And even Henry was leaving soon. I was in a kind
of limbo. It should have been very depressing.
Instead, I gazed at the hills on my screen. I imagined I
could almost see the grass stirring as a cool wind passed. I
found my breathing had slowed; the familiar knot of tension
across my shoulders had eased.
 What would be your preferred choice of entertainment
facilities?
Clare London Pop-Ups [24]
Well, this was a challenge for me, because  Internet
access had been totally grayed out. So had  spa bath,  free
bar, and  twenty-four hour news channels. I sighed again. I
was getting the measure of this rather erratic questionnaire
by now. So what was available? I had the choice of  Local
eating venue and outdoor exercise. I clicked on it, of course.
There wasn t any other choice, was there?
Maybe I could adapt to more than I d given myself credit
for.
 What would be your preferred type of celebration?
Does it matter? I thought, wryly. My choices were:
 Karaoke night/Bungee jumping/Intimate dinner for two.
Well, anything was better than the humiliation of karaoke, or
the horror of throwing myself off a cliff, only to bounce up
again, probably swallowing my tongue in the process.
A smile started to tug at the corners of my mouth, and I
clicked the dinner for two.
 Who would be your preferred companion? Choose your
favorites from below.
First there was  female or male delete where
applicable. But the  female choice was already grayed out.
Well, this was heading in an unusual direction, wasn t it?
Damn program was turning out to be more and more limited,
or maybe& frighteningly perceptive. I had a moment s pity
for any straight men who might ve been tempted to follow
this path, but I clicked happily enough from my own point of
view.
I expected a list of current celebrities then not that I
expected for a single moment that I d end up having a sexy
Clare London Pop-Ups [25]
tęte-ą-tęte with Tom Cruise (too short) or Johnny Depp (too
cool), but I supposed they structured these things to give
them an idea of the customer s preferences. You ll remember
I loved spending time on these questionnaires.
But instead, it was a list of straightforward questions.
All with most of the choices grayed out. I sighed (yet again),
and clicked on what was left.
Dark tousled hair.
Blue eyes.
Athletic build.
Intelligent.
Love of the outdoors.
Interest in extreme sports.
Exceptional talent for computer programming.
Endlessly patient.
Good sense of humor& .
Right.
I chewed at my lip. I had to admit the available choices
were increasingly familiar. They were also making my skin
flush and my heart warm. I shifted uncomfortably on my
seat.
 Thank you for your cooperation! the blinking said
again. The Smiley almost leered at me.  Wait one moment
and we will give you your destination and travel instructions.
Now for it. Maybe I ought to go and get that coffee& but
before I could push the chair back, the response came
quickly. Another message in lurid purple.
Clare London Pop-Ups [26]
It was oddly comforting.
 We are sorry to inform you that there is a small problem
with your Destination.
What?
 The location is already booked. Will you be prepared to
share the accommodation?
Share? Was this the catch? Was this the herd of
incontinent goats? Or& something else? I flexed my fingers
and straightened my shoulders. I remembered late nights
with Henry, laughing over a stupid TV program, sharing a
beer, a hand around my waist and hot breath against my
ear.
I clicked  Yes.
 To accept very basic living facilities?
 Yes.
 Without access to transport, restaurants, heating?
I laughed aloud. And at that very minute, I realized I
couldn t think of anything more inviting. I tapped  Yes.
Firmly. I thought I heard footsteps in the corridor outside my
apartment door.  Yes! I called out, not knowing if anyone
or someone would hear.
 Will you share a bedroom? blinked the last question I
saw, before full confirmation hit me.
A shiver ran down my spine. I thought of the fun Henry
and I had together. The way I thought about him all the
damned time. The way he was on my doorstep at the
slightest excuse. The fact that I kept providing those
Clare London Pop-Ups [27]
excuses. The excitement he brought me, both in and out of
bed. The time he d spent on my PC recently& .
The background scene on the screen filtered slowly into
a closer view of the small house in the distance. It really was
small but it looked well-kept, and smoke curled out of the
chimney like the picture on the front of a cheesy Christmas
card. But I knew this was real.
A vision of walking the hills in the snow with Henry
filled my mind. We d leave a trail of footprints behind us,
where only birds and small animals had previously been. No
one else around for miles. The anticipation of snowball
fights; of hot, homemade soup; of peeling off damp clothing
to dry it in front of the stove. The thought of pressing up
close to him in a single bed, naked and warm in front of that
same stove. Touching his skin. Holding him close. Kissing
him. Pulling the blanket around us until the heat from our
own bodies was enough to get us through the night, then
throwing off those blankets, and laughing. Rolling
underneath his strong body, sweaty with excitement,
gasping into his neck, clutching him tight as he offered me
what I needed and never asked anything except to share it.
 Yes I clicked.
 Yes, I whispered. I got up abruptly from my seat in
front of the screen.
The final questions were still blinking but I reckoned I
knew all the answers by now. And when I opened the door to
my apartment to find Henry standing there, just closing his
laptop, my grin probably matched his. Big, wide, happy,
cheesy emoticon grins!
 Endlessly patient? I said.  What s that all about?
Clare London Pop-Ups [28]
He raised an eyebrow.  I ll wait for you to want more. As
long as it takes.
 So you think you already know what I want& .
He smiled.  It s what I want too, Jack.
 And what I need?
He shrugged and his eyes sparkled. I imagined I could
smell a fresh tang of pine and heather from walking those
hills.
 No strings, we said. I didn t know what I was saying,
really, let alone why. I placed my hand on his shoulder and
ran my palm slowly down to his elbow. He sucked in a
breath.
 It doesn t have to be a problem, Jack.
 What doesn t? Love? I nearly bit my tongue off, but it
was too late, the word was out there.  But it always is. I
don t have time for commitment. I don t have the energy to
struggle with all that angst.
He was still smiling, his gaze steady.  What makes you
think you have to struggle? What if it s not angst at all, but a
lot of fun? If you re already living it?
I stared at him. He was a perfect sight, his eyes wide
and his face glowing with pleasure and excitement.  Already
living it?
He didn t even have to reply. Of course I was!
 Help you pack?
Clare London Pop-Ups [29]
And I started to laugh.  All done. I m ready to go
whenever you like. How had I ever thought he had no drive,
no purpose?
His eyes softened and he leaned over to whisper in my
ear.  Bring the purple tie. If I don t tie you to the bed, one of
us may fall out.
My whole body shuddered with delight.  And you have a
good sense of humor?
He laughed in reply.  From the state of all those pop-
ups, you d better believe it.
And I drew him into the apartment, closing the door
behind us, my computer the furthest thing from my mind.
Have you been Naughty or Nice?
Get the whole package of holiday stories at
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com
CLARE LONDON took her pen name from the city where she
lives, loves, and writes. A lone, brave female in a frenetic,
testosterone-fueled family home, she juggles her writing with
the weekly wash, waiting for the far distant day when she
can afford to give up her day job as an accountant.
She s written in many genres and across many settings, with
novels and short stories published both online and in print.
She says she likes variety in her writing while friends say
she s just fickle, but as long as both theories spawn good
fiction, she s happy. Most of her work features male/male
romance and drama with a healthy serving of physical
passion, as she enjoys both reading and writing about
strong, sympathetic, and sexy characters.
Clare currently has several novels sulking at that tricky
chapter three stage and plenty of other projects in mind...
she just has to find out where she left them in that frenetic,
testosterone-fueled family home.
Visit Clare s web site at http://www.clarelondon.co.uk and
her blog at http://clarelondon.livejournal.com/.
More Daily Dose
and Advent Calendar packages
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Pop-Ups ©Copyright Clare London, 2010
Published by
Dreamspinner Press
4760 Preston Road
Suite 244-149
Frisco, TX 75034
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the
authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Art by Paul Richmond http://www.paulrichmondstudio.com
Cover Design by Mara McKennen
This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is
illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon
conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No
part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the Publisher. To
request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite
244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/
Released in the United States of America
December 2010
eBook Edition
eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-767-2