“Do you know why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’?”

“Why don’t you feel all that good?”

“I have a sore throat,” said Kerstin.

“That sounds annoying. But it will pass,” said Sandra, who didn’t believe that Kerstin was calling Friends-on-call to discuss streptococcal infections.

“I cry a lot,” said Kerstin unexpectedly. “My husband died.”

“That’s very sad. Did it happen recently?”

“No, but it comes in waves. I think about how old I’m getting and how empty it will always be here in the house.”

How to answer this kind of statement? Loneliness was what callers to Friends-on-call had in common. But loneliness took on many different guises. Some felt lonely in a bad relationship, others were frozen out at school or work. Then there were those who were lonely in all ways—those who had no one to share their life with, no work to go to, no children or grandchildren. Some perceived themselves as lonely because they couldn’t think straight, or were unable to open up and let other people in.

“I could say things like ‘you’re no older than you feel’ or ‘there’s plenty more fish in the sea,’” said Sandra. “But I don’t know anything about you and your situation, so they would just be empty words. But perhaps you would like to tell me something about your husband. What was he like?”

“You still wouldn’t understand,” said Kerstin.

“When did he die?” Sandra asked instead.

“Four years ago. I waited and waited, but he never came back. I knew he was in the car, knew something had happened. I had spoken to him just before the accident, and he was supposed to be home soon.”

“A car accident? How terribly tragic.”

Indeed it was. But Kerstin was talking. She had uttered several sentences in a row of her own volition, talking about something that was surely the worst thing she had experienced. Just as Sandra had guessed, painful tragedy lay behind Kerstin’s broken voice and inability to share her thoughts. However, Kerstin was not alone in having lost a loved one, her life partner, in dramatic circumstances. She was one of many, and ought to be able to find support and comfort from people with similar experiences. But she had turned to Sandra—Sandra who had no comparable experiences of her own. Absurdly, she felt honoured, and was overcome with inexplicable tenderness towards Kerstin.

“He was missing for four days,” said Kerstin. “Do you understand?—for four days.”

“Missing?” said Sandra, who didn’t quite follow this.

“There was black ice and the car crashed into a ravine. He was stuck there for four days before someone found him.”

Now Sandra didn’t know what to think. If Kerstin had spoken to him just before the accident then the police with all their resources must surely have been able to locate him. What was more, surely the smashed-up car must have been visible from the road—another motorist must have asked themselves why there was a car down in the ravine.