There are a few certainties in life. Birth, death and never knowing what the British weather is going to get up to.

I left work to visit Mrs V, and the skies darkened as I cycled through Brentford. Before I knew it, I was being attacked from above by pea-size bullets of frozen ice, avoiding puddles and generally trying not to die next to Chiswick High Road. Cinquo de Mayo? More like sink-o de Mayo, as I went through another filled pothole and my trainers became more sodden. As I passed through Acton and back to my home borough, the rain settled, and I pulled up outside Mrs V’s. V for very wet and V for vot on earth is going on with this weather. By the time I’d gotten to the door, I was bathing in glorious sunshine!

Mrs V had obviously seen me coming (maybe she was going to close her blinds from blinding her?), and opened the door. She gave me her list and hoped it would get the right things, so we went through together (I wouldn’t want to get the wrong chicken dinner) and I nipped round the corner to Iceland.

In the basket went the tea bags and two slabs of cake. In went the chocolate bars and the half dozen eggs. In went four tins of soup, on offer, so an extra can went in for the price of three.

Winner winner chicken dinner.

Finally down the frozen meals aisle, where the blue boxes were stacked in the chest freezers. I found the chicken and the beef hot pots, and the shepherds pie, but unfortunately there were no cottage pies so I had to go without.

Shopping paid for, I went back to Mrs V’s door. She seemed very pleased with the goods I’d gotten, and didn’t seem to mind the lack of cottage pie. We had a nice little chat on the doorstep (the sun was still shining), and she enjoyed having some company, as she had been quite lonely during lockdown. I headed back home, as the grey clouds loomed over head again, and made it through my front door just as round two of the hail storm started!