Well, it’s been a few days since my last post and a few things have been happening.

First, S (The Hay Festival) has texted me.  She is OK, which is by far the main thing, although her knee is not so good and she says it has been the busiest festival ever – and I wasn’t there to help, which I feel really bad about (but it simply was not possible for various reasons, not least, cost).  It won’t stop me feeling bad but on the bright side, I knew she would cope OK and she has some really good staff around her who are familiar with everything and have the experience.  Anyway, it’s nearly over now.

There are many events that I would have liked to have gone to.  It seems a few people have been asking after us and we have received a few emails – it’s nice to know you have been missed although it would be better to have been there.

On Wednesday morning I was run over.  Yes, me and Rufus.  We were on a zebra crossing and this driver coming round the corner just didn’t see us as he was looking at traffic from the right at the time.  It’s a strange thing being run over.  I saw the car coming, it wasn’t travelling fast, but I could tell it wasn’t going to stop.  How did I know that?  I put my hand out and as the car hit my legs I kind of fell over the bonnet and on to the floor.  I’m not actually sure that Rufus was hit at all, but the lead pulled him so that he went head over heels and I remember, as I was falling, that I was much more concerned about him than what was happening to me.

As usual with these things it seemed that the air changed to treacle in that everything went in slow motion.  The car coming towards me, me knowing it would hit, putting my hand out, turning and watching Rufus go head over heels, being worried that he was alright, etc.

The guy stopped, of course, and got out and kept on asking if I was hurt and I just wanted him to shut up and let me think, let me breathe, let me relax for a moment.  I got Rufus who sat down, very quietly and obediently besides me.  A lady who had a dog in the dog area just by the crossing came over to check me and stroke Rufus.

The guy kept on going on about me being hurt.  I checked Rufus was OK and he seemed to be.  I was shaking and felt very weird.  Not hurt but almost like I wasn’t really there.  I just wanted to go somewhere quiet and this guy was just going on and on – ‘Are you hurt?’.

I wanted to be angry with him, for Rufus, not me. But I couldn’t be angry.  Just the day before, I nearly ran someone over in a similar circumstance and I felt so lucky that I had not run him over and I just couldn’t be angry.

He stroked Rufus, who was still sitting quietly, right besides me.  I don’t really remember any more conversation.  We left and went home, but I noted his registration number, just in case.

Of course, I was foolish to even try crossing the road without being sure he would stop.  Maybe I will be less bold in future – certainly there.  But I felt fine, just a little shaky.  My second mistake that morning was telling V.  I don’t know why I did.  Of course he goes ballistic because, if it had been him, he would have been really angry with the guy.  Even after I explained about my incident the night before, he didn’t understand.

I felt lucky.  Not that I could have been injured or worse, but wasn’t.  Not that Rufus was OK.  No, that I hadn’t actually hit the guy the evening before.  Of course, my Italian colleagues said I was mad and that I should have gone to hospital to get money from the guy (or his insurance).  They said that the guy was lucky that he ran over me and not some Italian who would, apparently, have acted as they do on a football pitch.  Ah well, sono inglese and, anyway, that’s me.

Of course, the next day and, even, today, the muscles in my shoulders hurt a bit but I know that’s from the time that I had Spillaine’s syndrome and ‘lost my arms’ since the muscles are, and will always be, weak.  It’ll be fine in a day or two.

Rufus was not really affected at all and remains …. well … Rufus, bless him.

V did ring me later at work, just to check I was OK.  I do understand he gets worried, but I’m OK really.

Anyway, S, it’s nearly over and I just hope you can get over in August like you said you would. 

With love, as always.