Fashionista in Italy 2

In Hospital

Tuesday 24 March

I woke up in hospital. He was there by my side.
"He's been there all night, Bella!" the cleaner told me, I wasn't called Bella but that seemed to be an endearing name for girls from Italian men which was nice. You wouldn't get that at home from guys in Bonny Scotland. I never started calling it Bonny till I came out here, what's that all about?!
"I'm Edward," he told me in his posh accent.
"Are you from London?" I asked.
"Yes, is tyhere a problem with that - I'm not a snob!"
"NO, no no no! I was just trying to place you," I thought I had emphasized NO WAY too much.
"Alright. Where are you from?" he asked casually with a sneering tone which I'm sure he couldn't help, it was just his accent.
"I'm from the Highlands."
"Oh, that's funny! Me too! Strange I've never seen you around before!"
Was that a compliment or not, I continued, "Yes, well, lots of little places with no public transport to other parts, what's a girl to do?!"
"Oh, yes, yes, quite so, old chap!" I wasn't old or a chap but I guessed this was the posh English version of the Italian, "Bella!"
I did not say that of course as I did not want him to think I was mad, "Right!" I laughed nervously, was he slightly barmy or was it just posh eccentricity?
"Oh yes, honk honk!" he snorted with laughter, pushing me on the shoulder.
"You are anemic," said the doctor who seemed to be from Poland, why did they keep popping up in Europe, my new plumber, joiner, engineer and builder on call were all from Poland too!
"Do you have to say it with all the people here!" I waved around like there were thousands of people, as if we were in a stadium of sound, the male doctor looked at Edward.
"Ah, I see," he said, flicking through his flip-board, "I will give you an iron supplement and then you can go home, you have been in over night already and we can not see anything further wrong with you, we will send off the blood for blood test analysis and you will be sent your results by post, we will ring you, it could take a long time so if it is more than six months call us.

Edward



Was this a don't call us, we'll call you thing? It sounded like it to me and I hated needles. I must have been half giddy with fainting when I had agreed for blood to be taken or I was sure I would have fainted at the sight, of needles, not fainting.
"I will take you home, where do you live?" Edward asked heroically for this day and age, he was so gallant for a modern man!
"I live in a flat in Rome, are we still in Rome?"
"Yes!" he told me, shaking my head, he must have thought he'd joined the loon party!
He picked me up, fetching! He took me all the way to the cab before he popped me in gently and manly gave the man enough money to get me home and quite a lot more, "She'll tell you the address on the way," he told the taxi man and slammed the door, nodding to let the taxi man get away.
I was quite put out by that, he just left me! I wanted him to stay and stroke my head all the way. Was that a little full on for me to be thinking that? He was obviously quite rich if the size of his tip to the taxi driver had been anything to go by so he must be a very busy man in some business or other.
I looked out of the window, sighing, why could you never hold on to a good man like that? It was typical that as soon as I had found a man who could understand everything I said (apart from the loon-a-loo bits) he flitted off!
I had been here for six months... When I got in there was a surprise in my pocket, it was the hospital dressing gown which I had not had time to take off and change out of the nightie thing they give you since Edward just picked me up and carried me off. When I slipped my hand inside as I was about to take it off and checking the pockets I found a piece of card. It was a black business card with gold, gilded letters written on it in type. It was from Edward. I wasn't sure what his business was but he had scrolled what looked like his home mobile number on the back, oh, goody!