Page 2 of Nothing to Fear

“Which? Experience or training?”

“Both,” he said. “Everything you say is held in confidence. It won’t be discussed with anyone else. Your own judgmentis valid. If you feel uncomfortable at any point, you have no obligation and can hang up without explanation or pursuit. The exception to this is if we believe you are a danger to yourself or others. In that case, we pass your number to the appropriate authority to ensure your safety.”

A rehearsed spiel she’d bet. “I don’t mistrust you; I don’t know you.”

“It’s cliché to say, but this isn’t about me. It’s about you. I’m a sounding board, a sympathetic ear. Nothing about me matters. You are in control.”

“What about continuity of care? You must have people who call up more than once. Do we have to start at page one with a new person every time?”

“At the end of the call, you’ll be asked if you’d like to connect to the same agent in future. If you press one, your number will automatically be routed to my line whenever you call.”

“You’re on twenty-four, seven?”

“No, we have voicemail. If I’m unavailable, you can leave a message and I’ll call you back. Alternatively, if you prefer something more concrete, we can schedule an appointment to talk.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility for a volunteer. Doesn’t it take over your life?”

“Volunteers set their own parameters. Some people do dedicate their time to this twenty-four, seven. Some don’t accept appointments. Each restricts the number of clients they take on at a time.”

All very smart. The charity should be proud of itself. She’d been on the line for less than five minutes and was already impressed.

“How many do you take?”

“I don’t discuss clients with clients.” And it sounded like there was a smile in his voice though the wary edge added to her picture of him. He’d be tall, able, probably a guy who looked after his physique. Was he a meathead? Not so far. “Tell me something about you. What do you do?”

“I’m a sales associate.”

“Sales. Do you enjoy it?”

“It pays my bills. My employer has always been fair. Though my direct supervisor can be… curt. Sometimes the power goes to her head.” Folding her legs in front of her, they twisted into lotus of their own accord. “That wasn’t nice, she’s easily swayed by stress. Things get on top of her sometimes.”

“Isn’t that true of all of us?”

“You don’t sound like the kind of man who understands stress.”

“No?”

“No. How old are you?”

“Old enough to know age is just a number. I’ve met eighteen-year-olds who’ve seen more grief and trauma than any of us should. And eighty-year-olds who still believe in Santa Claus.”

“That means you’re young.”

“It does?”

“Yes, you’re defensive about it,” she said, stretching the phone cord out to the side. “Society often dismisses young people as inexperienced and ignorant. It tends to place more value on older members of society when it comes to experience and wisdom. To a point anyway. After a certain age, the elderly are infantilized, treated as doddery or irrelevant.” Silence. “There’s a not-so-sweet spot, usually somewhere between seventy and eighty, depending on health, when many people subconsciously dismiss their older relatives as being on a downward slope. Like overnight everything they’ve seen andachieved is erased and replaced with senility. We love our older relatives and follow their example until we assume we know more than them.” More silence. “Are you still there?”

“Yes, I—that’s an interesting perspective.”

Which, by the sounds of it, he didn’t share.

“Sorry, that’s… it doesn’t matter.”

“It matters if you want to talk about it.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, I just… The wider view is easier,” she said, coiling the length of cord around her arm on and off over and over. “Talking in generalizations…”

“Gives the illusion of talking about something without actually talking about it,” he said. “Do you keep everyone at a distance?”

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