Monday morning was grey but not too overcast, the kind of sky that suggested it might brighten up later if we were lucky. There was a softness to the light that hinted at better things to come, though for now everything looked muted and subdued.

The robin had found a new vantage point this morning, perched on the outside table, looking directly in through the kitchen window as if it was watching me go about my morning routine. When I gave it a little wave, it immediately took flight, apparently deciding I was too interactive for its liking.

I filled my glass with water and flicked on the kettle. Monday meant cornflakes, back to the working week routine. The shower was running upstairs; Dave maintaining his schedule for the start of another week.

The radio crackled to life as I poured the cornflakes into my bowl, and Gary's voice carried the weight of more sobering news.

"Violent crime is on the increase, according to a police spokeswoman we spoke to yesterday. Road rage and drunken brawls are topping the list of incidents, and she went on to say that recent news and stress seem to be the main cause. However, she's calling for calm during these difficult times."

Gary paused, and I could almost hear him gathering himself to shift gears.

"The spokeswoman echoed calls from other authority figures for calm and understanding during this trying time. But that's enough of the depressing stuff! Happy Monday, peeps! It's all downhill to the weekend from here, just feels like it's a loooong way to go, but it'll soon be Friday and we'll be letting our hair down and having fun! Not that we can't have fun today, of course."

I added milk to my cereal, listening as Gary moved into his usual caller routine with renewed determination to stay upbeat.

"Who do we have on the line? Oh, it's Olivia from Billericay! My mother always said ladies from Billericay are all fur coat and no knickers, so how are things in Billericay, Olivia?" Gary asked somewhat unexpectedly.

"Oh well, I don't have a fur coat on," she muttered, somewhat embarrassed, "but I do have knickers on, I mean—"

Gary quickly cut her off. "Thanks for the info, Olivia, and sorry I asked! It was just me rambling, but judging by the string of expletives coming from Producer Kate in my ear, including a few I've never heard before, I shouldn't have said what I did. Apologies!"

Olivia laughed. "No problem!"

"So, moving ever so swiftly on, what can we play for you today, Olivia, who is fully dressed?"

She laughed again. "Walking on Sunshine by Katrina & The Waves!"

As the fast tempo beat started, I found myself nodding my head to the rhythm, but when the singer reached the line about thinking maybe someone loved them, I turned off the radio with a sigh. The lyrics hit a bit too close to home this morning.

Looking up and out the window, my eye caught the disaster that Dave had made of the garden. He'd had the bright idea to spray the fences with wood preserver over the weekend, which he'd done with his usual enthusiasm. Unfortunately, he'd also managed to spray some of the roses, marigolds, fuchsias, and pretty much everything else in the vicinity. I stared at what was now mostly a brown lower garden and sighed deeply. He meant well, I told myself. He always meant well.

I'd just settled at the table with my breakfast when Dave appeared in the doorway, looking surprisingly alert for a Monday morning. He carried what appeared to be a pint glass filled to the brim with Red Bull, an ambitious amount of caffeine for anyone, let alone first thing in the morning.

He sat down across from me, took a long gulp of his energy drink, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he scratched his chin thoughtfully, apparently finding a patch of stubble he'd missed while shaving.

"You know," Dave said, setting down his pint glass with the satisfied air of someone who'd just solved a major culinary mystery, "I like to think the first guy to eat a snail was just doing it for the laughs."

I looked across at him and said, "What the fuck, Dave."