This is what I mean by bizarre:
1967 My father stopped the car outside Eades’ Stores, a wonderfully old-fashioned grocers with their name proudly set in mosaic between two large plate glass windows set in dark green frames and housing complete sides of smoked pig, whole rounds of strong cheese, and a wooden frame containing glass-fronted tin boxes with Peek Frean’s or Huntley and Palmer’s just emerging from heavily pawed and ancient paper. He asked me to go in and buy three tins of Trout Hall grapefruit segments. I came back with three bottles of Brobat (toilet cleaner).
“I didn’t ask for that!” said my father. I do remember the shopkeeper, Mrs Potter asking me if I was all right. Clearly not, because the story jumps to my father forcing glucose tablets through my gritted teeth while supine on my bed. The tablets were about 6mm thick and the diameter of a 2p coin. They were sold by Boots in yellow and black striped rolls. I still hate all forms of glucose except Lucozade.