Monday to Friday Man Read Online Free PDF Page A

she couldn’t cope with a puppy and Megan. ‘I’ll be the one who has to walk it,’ she’d said.
    I promised myself that when I was older and had my own home, I’d get one. When I visited Battersea Dogs Home Ruskin was one of the first dogs I saw. He was fast asleep in his basket, curled up in the shape of a kidney bean. As I knelt down, he opened his eyes and walked towards me, placing a paw between the bars of the cage. The girl showing me round said he had never done that before and that’s when I knew he was my boy.
    ‘Maybe I’ve made a mistake,’ I confessed to Gloria that night. The sense of responsibility overwhelmed me.
    Gloria handed him to me, a bundle of fur. ‘You’re his mother now. He needs you.’
    ‘Hi, treasure,’ she says now, strutting into my sitting room and throwing her swimming kit onto my sofa. Ruskin bolts over to say hello, wagging his tail as she scoops him into her arms. ‘Why aren’t you ready?’ she asks when she sees I’m still in my pyjamas.
    ‘Sorry, I’m just coming.’ I rush back to my desk. ‘Like your flip-flops,’ I mutter.
    ‘Aren’t they wonderful! They’re so comfy, tone my pins and . . . well, they do everything for me but pay my bills quite frankly. What are you doing, ducks?’
    ‘Changing my profile.’
    Gloria pulls up a chair. ‘No luck yet?’
    ‘Not a squeak.’
    ‘They ought to be snapping this place up. You should at least be getting a few bites by now.’
    ‘They’re not fish,’ I laugh.
    ‘Budge over,’ she demands, ‘let me take a look.’
    Gloria scans my advertisement. ‘It is the school holidays,’ I remind her. ‘London’s pretty dead in August.’
    Gloria reads out the description of No. 21. ‘I live in Hammersmith, in a two-bedroom house on a quiet peaceful road.’ She pushes me aside, clicks the ‘edit your details’ button. ‘It’s time for some serious artistic licence, Gilly.’
    I look at my watch. ‘What about our swimming?’ Gloria and I swim three times a week; we call ourselves the Olympians. We’re often overtaken in the slow lane but it doesn’t worry us.
    ‘Stick the kettle on,’ she says.
    Gloria describes our street as a lively place with a great sense of community.
    ‘But they want somewhere quiet, don’t they?’
    ‘No! It’s no bleeding wonder you’ve had zero response. This ad’s as cold as a winter’s day in Siberia.’
    ‘Really? Is it?’ I reread it, and have to agree that I wouldn’t want to move in this very minute. It does sound pretty boring.
    Gloria puckers her lips and gets stuck in now. ‘Oh, look! Have you checked this out?’ Gleefully she presses a button that takes us to a site that gives tips on what matters most to Monday to Fridayers.
    ‘Monday to Fridayers like to socialize,’ Gloria states. ‘You see! They want some fun.’ She then reads what I had written, ‘There are a couple of pubs within walking distance.’
    ‘There are a couple of pubs nearby,’ I say.
    ‘Oh, golly gosh. I can hardly contain my excitement.’
    ‘Go on then. Say there are superb pubs all within walking distance,’ I tell her. ‘And numerous coffee bars, delicatessens and shops,’ I say, enjoying this now, ‘and a beautiful park on my doorstep.’ Gloria and I have soon rewritten my advertisement, proudly alerting prospective Monday to Fridayers to the fact that I am only seconds away from the District Line and in prime position for all the motorways and airports. ‘Excellent transport links,’ Gloria types.
    She glances at the next tip. Some lodgers like to know a little about yourself so feel free to give as much information as you wish .
    She returns to my advertisement, reading off the screen, ‘I like swimming, films, writing and reading.’
    ‘Why not add that you play Bingo on a Wednesday night, charades on Thursday and you love to get about on your Freedom Pass. Listen, there’s only room for one perky pensioner on this street and that’s me.’
    I laugh. ‘OK. Say