Even inhabitants of the rainy tropics would have called Monday evening's weather wet. So wet that they were talking about it on the news. Which, in hindsight, probably wasn't the best thing to listen to as I battled through the sogginess. Especially when they joked 'I tell ya, I wouldn't want to be out in that right now!'

The cretins.

But the evening was brightened when I got to the lovely Mrs E's, meeting GG Lewisham's good-deeding supremo, Laura, at the door. We donned our gloves and masks, made our respective disparaging remarks about the weather, and went on in.

The task was simple. Mrs E's mattress and headboard had been struck down with pesky bed bugs - they can get in any which way, even in the cleanest of homes, like Mrs E's. And they're a pain that can bring down the perkiest and most resilient of us. Although not Mrs E, who is more resilient than most - the new mattress was on order and it'd be sorted in the fullness of time - the Peckham stoics are in rude health.

Relying on Laura's superior strength, we popped the mattress and headboard outside, said farewell to the bugs, and returned to give the bed's base a little steam clean with Mrs E's snazzy steamer.

And with that, we bid Mrs E a Merry Christmas and hit the road (and the rain) so we could get back to our own homes and evenings.

Thanks, Laura, for a lovely evening of good-deeding. And thanks, Mrs E, for welcoming us into your home.

Nice one.