together when we don’t. “I wouldn’t be here, except when I called my husband and told him about it, he insisted I tell the police.”
“He’s right. If you’ve been threatened, it’s always best to report it. Even if it’s all hot air, as it seems in this case.”
“You mean—”
“It’s unlikely this person will do you any physical harm.” Phoebe Hilton looks up from her note taking and smiles.
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, most antagonistic anonymous callers get all the aggro out of their systems by making the calls. That’s enough for them.”
I wait for her to produce something more persuasive. When she doesn’t, I say, “Most?”
“Yes. Admittedly, a small minority do take it further, but there are usually very specific warning signs—things we look out for. I’m comfortable that none of those red flags are cropping up here.”
I pull a chair over from the side of the room and sit down opposite her. “You don’t think this woman’s going to attack me and my family if we don’t leave Devon immediately, then?”
“No, I wouldn’t say so.”
Damn. It would have been nice to be able to tell Alex, “The police advise us to run for our lives. If we stay, it’ll be at our own risk.” I’m confident that I could turn abandoning Devon into as much fun as abandoning work.
Is it weird to glean so much pleasure from booting troublesome things out of your life?
I say, “What about the red flag of this woman knowing where we used to live and what my job used to be? What about ‘I don’t want to have to hurt you’?”
PC Hilton’s face twists in sympathy. “That’s a horrible thing to hear, but it doesn’t mean she’s going to do anything. Honestly, for most of them, the calls are enough to give them the buzz they’re after.”
“Are there lots of unhinged anonymous callers in this part of Devon?” I ask. “You talk as if you meet hundreds of these people every day.”
She laughs. “No, not at all. It’s very rare, this kind of behavior.”
“Then how—”
“I’d expect the calls to stop fairly soon. That tends to be the pattern with people who do this. If it continues, obviously come and see us again.”
“It already has continued. From one phone call to two—that’s a continuation.” I didn’t want to come here, but I did, to please Alex; now I’m getting angry on his behalf, knowing that Phoebe Hilton isn’t saying any of the things he’d want her to. “Couldn’t you try to trace the calls? I might not be quivering with fear and in imminent danger, but it’s still harassment. People get prosecuted for this kind of thing, don’t they?”
PC Hilton nods. “If the calls continue, we’ll certainly look into tracing them,” she says. “To be honest, it might be easier if you were to have a think about who it could be, and maybe try and talk to them? Confront them. Not alone, obviously, and as diplomatically as possible. Perhaps your husband’d go with you?”
Inside my head, all movement stops for a few seconds. Did I not explain myself clearly enough?
“If I thought I could work out on my own who’s doing it, I wouldn’t be bothering you,” I tell her. “I’m here because I’m certain this is nobody I know . It’s a voice I’ve never heard before.”
“People can distort their voices,” says PC Hilton.
“I told you: this wasn’t a distorted voice. A distorted voice sounds muffled or altered, or . . . This woman was speaking in a perfectly ordinary, clear voice, with a slight lisp, though not the usual kind—not th for s .”
“You said it sounded as if she might have had something in her mouth?”
“I don’t think she actually did—I was trying to describe the lisp. It’s more likely her tongue was catching on her teeth as she spoke. The point is, I’d have recognized her if she were someone I knew. She isn’t. This is no one whose voice I’ve heard before.”
“But you said she knew you used to work in the
“He’s right. If you’ve been threatened, it’s always best to report it. Even if it’s all hot air, as it seems in this case.”
“You mean—”
“It’s unlikely this person will do you any physical harm.” Phoebe Hilton looks up from her note taking and smiles.
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, most antagonistic anonymous callers get all the aggro out of their systems by making the calls. That’s enough for them.”
I wait for her to produce something more persuasive. When she doesn’t, I say, “Most?”
“Yes. Admittedly, a small minority do take it further, but there are usually very specific warning signs—things we look out for. I’m comfortable that none of those red flags are cropping up here.”
I pull a chair over from the side of the room and sit down opposite her. “You don’t think this woman’s going to attack me and my family if we don’t leave Devon immediately, then?”
“No, I wouldn’t say so.”
Damn. It would have been nice to be able to tell Alex, “The police advise us to run for our lives. If we stay, it’ll be at our own risk.” I’m confident that I could turn abandoning Devon into as much fun as abandoning work.
Is it weird to glean so much pleasure from booting troublesome things out of your life?
I say, “What about the red flag of this woman knowing where we used to live and what my job used to be? What about ‘I don’t want to have to hurt you’?”
PC Hilton’s face twists in sympathy. “That’s a horrible thing to hear, but it doesn’t mean she’s going to do anything. Honestly, for most of them, the calls are enough to give them the buzz they’re after.”
“Are there lots of unhinged anonymous callers in this part of Devon?” I ask. “You talk as if you meet hundreds of these people every day.”
She laughs. “No, not at all. It’s very rare, this kind of behavior.”
“Then how—”
“I’d expect the calls to stop fairly soon. That tends to be the pattern with people who do this. If it continues, obviously come and see us again.”
“It already has continued. From one phone call to two—that’s a continuation.” I didn’t want to come here, but I did, to please Alex; now I’m getting angry on his behalf, knowing that Phoebe Hilton isn’t saying any of the things he’d want her to. “Couldn’t you try to trace the calls? I might not be quivering with fear and in imminent danger, but it’s still harassment. People get prosecuted for this kind of thing, don’t they?”
PC Hilton nods. “If the calls continue, we’ll certainly look into tracing them,” she says. “To be honest, it might be easier if you were to have a think about who it could be, and maybe try and talk to them? Confront them. Not alone, obviously, and as diplomatically as possible. Perhaps your husband’d go with you?”
Inside my head, all movement stops for a few seconds. Did I not explain myself clearly enough?
“If I thought I could work out on my own who’s doing it, I wouldn’t be bothering you,” I tell her. “I’m here because I’m certain this is nobody I know . It’s a voice I’ve never heard before.”
“People can distort their voices,” says PC Hilton.
“I told you: this wasn’t a distorted voice. A distorted voice sounds muffled or altered, or . . . This woman was speaking in a perfectly ordinary, clear voice, with a slight lisp, though not the usual kind—not th for s .”
“You said it sounded as if she might have had something in her mouth?”
“I don’t think she actually did—I was trying to describe the lisp. It’s more likely her tongue was catching on her teeth as she spoke. The point is, I’d have recognized her if she were someone I knew. She isn’t. This is no one whose voice I’ve heard before.”
“But you said she knew you used to work in the
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