Mrs E's first encounter with GoodGym came with a few unexpected twists. First of all, I wasn't a professional gardener who had come for a scheduled consultation. Secondly, I had come to work in the garden without bringing any tools or a van to take away the garden waste. And thirdly, I didn't want any money for my time. At that point, Mrs E didn't yet realise I had run 6km up the hill to meet her, but I thought that revelation might have been one surprise too many, so I've kept that secret for later.

Mrs E said she was genuinely touched that someone would give up their time to help her and her husband without expecting anything in return. At the same time, she doubted I would be able to make any difference in a garden that had become inaccessible to the elderly couple, who no longer even knew where their tools were.

I didn't want to be too persistent if this wasn't the kind of help they had been expecting. However, sensing Mrs E's distress about the state of the garden she had loved and cared for over so many years, I decided to make use of one of my lesser-known skills: persuasion. First, I asked if I could simply have a look around the garden and see what might be achievable in a short time without any tools. I also asked what made her think I wouldn't be able to improve it. Then I showed her a snapshot of my before-and-after photos from my GoodGym missions portfolio. That did the trick.

Although I was tempted to search the plastic toolbox in the garden for something to trim the overgrown plants, I decided instead to pull weeds from the patio, which required no tools at all.

As I worked, Mrs E asked where I was from and was delighted to tell me that part of her own family roots lay in the same country. She told me about her childhood in continental Europe, how she came to the UK, and how she fell in love both with the country and with her husband, Mr R. We chatted about all sorts of things, and she shared some of her secrets to looking and feeling good at the age of 90: a sensible low-dairy diet, lots of smiling, and simply being happy. Looking at her, I would have guessed she was in her early seventies, so I felt the advice came from a true expert.

Our conversation was suddenly interrupted by a cat jumping into the garden and loudly announcing its arrival with a series of long, insistent meows, clearly unimpressed by my presence in its territory. That unexpected visitor completely broke the rhythm of our chat, and Mrs E decided to head back inside for a well-earned rest.

In the meantime, I weeded the section of patio nearest the garden entrance, removing patches of grass and bindweed, then swept away grass and leaves. The garden was large, long and quite overgrown, but I was pleased with what I had managed to achieve in a relatively short time.

Mrs E was grateful for the help and pleasantly surprised by what a GoodGymer could accomplish in less than 90 minutes. She topped up my water bottle and invited me to sit with her on the sofa while we looked through a thick stack of printed photographs showing her garden over the years. The transformation was remarkable. The photos captured the garden's evolution from a grassy space to a beautifully paved garden, or from a lush tropical paradise to a space overflowing with flowers. Mrs E spoke proudly of the gardener who had designed and created it, recalling with a smile how he had cheekily photographed his work afterwards to show future clients. I couldn't help but laugh to myself - that was exactly how I had earned Mrs E's trust in the first place.