Not the cheese on Mr T's list - which is always the regular lump of cheddar from Lidl - but a crossword clue "Somerset Cheese" but which wasn't cheddar which then had us both scratching our heads. Somehow we not only covered cheeses in today's pre and post shop chat, but the Spanish Inquisition, the Spanish Civil War, and how hard it is to judge form during the Winter flat racing season...

As with quite a few of these tasks in previously unvisited parts of London, I needed help from a kindly neighbour to find the right entrance to Miss B's flat, but once in, it was straight down, or in reality up, to work.

First task was to replace some pieces of her curtain rail that had broken off, as well as rehang the curtain pelmet where some of the clips had come off the rail. I needed to refer to one of the other rails to determine how it all went back together, but after a few downs and ups on the ladder, I had it figured out and all back in place.

With the curtain done, Miss B asked if I could take a look at her kitchen window, whereupon she produced a long pole with an L shaped hook on the end which she has to use to push up/pull down the window as it's way out of reach above her sink.

After a few determined pushes, I got the window to move up and down, and then sprayed all the surfaces with some 3in1 oil to try and make it all run a bit smoother - it felt much better, and at least was now sliding up and down as it should be, but it still needs quite a bit of effort with the long pole. However at least Miss B can now close the window and stop the draught coming in, which is a huge improvement.

Had a nice cup of coffee and slice of cake with Ms F. She seems well. Shopping easy enough but two members of staff had never heard of beetroot salad. Second choice of water brand. Fit this in nicely with an afternoon off following a book haul nearby.

Went to Mr R during lunch as I was working roughly 2 minutes away from his flat. When I arrived, I found out that the light in the bathroom was replaced, but the lights in his bedroom were not working. So I got the bulbs from Mr R and replaced the room bulbs...all bright in his bedroom now.

I can't remember the last time I bought some tinned spaghetti either for a beneficiary or for myself (ahh, memories of childhood tea times...), so it was a pleasant surprise to see it on Mr T's list today - he told me he's preparing for the cold, where easy cooking is preferred - so tinned soup and spaghetti are a cupboard staple. Fortunately the shelves of M&S had both for him, and the aisles of Tesco and Lidl filled the rest of today's basket.

Coming back to Ms F’s shopping mission routine after a week away, I wasn’t surprised to find that the lady had almost run out of bottled water and that I’d be the one to restock it. What did surprise me was Ms F waving an umbrella at me as I climbed five flights of stairs to reach her flat.

She explained that she had recently fallen. The main casualty of the accident was, quite luckily, an umbrella, which had refused to close ever since.

“This umbrella has been lying in front of my flat for the last four days. I have a new neighbour. She must be thinking I’m crazy.” - Ms F.

I haven’t owned an umbrella for the last 20 years, but my muscle memory of folding that contraption hasn’t died. I decided to defend Ms F’s reputation and close the umbrella. It was bent, and there was no way to operate it smoothly again in that state. I’d almost given up on this side quest, but the thought of all the GoodGymers who would spend an extra two minutes trying, and possibly succeeding, made me go against my impatient nature. After two minutes of tinkering, the umbrella was either more or less broken, but at least it was folded, much to Ms F’s relief.

After that warm-up, I proceeded to the main set: the groceries. The list included a few items not typical of Ms F, such as beetroot salad, tinned tomatoes, Rich Tea biscuits, and Grape-Nuts - a cereal brand I’d never heard of.

I also learnt that the whole business with the fish counter closing early due to staff shortages, along with the availability of breaded haddock, had ceased to matter to Ms F, as her oven was broken. The poached salmon, which didn’t need baking, still made it into the checkout, though.

I left Ms F happy, with food for the whole week, nine litres of water, ginger beer, and a malfunctioning umbrella that, at least, no longer took up half the space on the landing.