It was an utterly miserable morning, the rain seems to be relentless and never ending, it’s cold, dark and grey. We are also still in the midst of a pandemic. Alas, no fear, for I am here! The name Lucy means light, and I was ready for action, ready to brighten up the day and Mrs J’s life... If only I could find my red t-shirt!

I gave Mrs J’s daughter V a call, as requested on the mission briefing. Mrs J is somewhat of a GoodGym regular now, and has had several Saturday morning visits from various heroes in red. I had yet to meet her, and V explained that her Mum pretty much has the same list every week.

‘I’m sorry to say that Mum reads the Daily Mail’, V started off, and followed through with the edible goods. ‘It’s amazing that Mum has made it to 90 with all the rubbish she eats’ said V, as she listed off custard tarts, Choc ices and Galaxy chocolate. Sounded like a great shop to me, as I thought about how I actually would quite fancy a French fancy!

List confirmed, I threw on my cape (I am a hero after all, and I’d rather be a drier one at that), and battled the storm of South West London across to ASDA. I promise that I tried to dry myself as much as possible before I went into the store. Like some sort of soggy Hansel and Gretel (more like Hand-gel and Wet-all over), I left a trail of gentle rain drips on my way round.

Spuddy hell, it was HUGE inside, and I found myself getting lost. Normally I am a very efficient shopper, and am quite well practised. Well pie found the potatoes, the newspaper, the cottage pie and the fruit puddings easily enough. I couldn’t sea the prawn cocktail, but got directed the right way by the helpful store colleague. Can I find the tins of soup and spam? Well of course I can. Then I was bready to hit the bakery aisle for some sliced white Warburtons and the fantastic French fancies. Smooth as you like, the galaxy went in my basket, and then icy the freezer section, and source choc ices.

Souper. Although I hadn’t had much luck with the custard puddings. I had taken a-tart the store, with no avail. It took three helpful shop assistants to direct me to my final location, via the tinned fruit, the bakers and the deli counter. At least I’d got some steps in today.

I paid up and felt very accomplished as I managed to squeeze everything in for less than £20, and head back outside into the grim streets of Clapham to deliver the bounty to Mrs J.

It turns out that Mrs J is just as sweet as her shopping, and we had a lovely chat on the doorstep. She fussed over me a little bit, making sure I was staying safe in the rain, and then wouldn’t let me leave without taking a chocolate bar for the trouble. Obviously I couldn’t say no, so I made my way off feeling a little warmer and a little sweeter with my galaxy bar.