No One Left to Talk To: A Story “Mum, what do you mean you’ve got no one to talk to? I call you twice a day!” her daughter sighed. “Oh, no, darling, I didn’t mean you—” Nina Anderson replied with a sad sigh, “It’s just… there’s no one left my age. From my time.” “Mum, don’t be daft! You’ve got your old school friend, Irene. And you always look so much younger than you are. Come on, Mum, what are you on about?” her daughter protested, clearly upset. “You know Irene’s got asthma. She can’t talk on the phone, she just starts coughing. And she’s all the way across town. We used to be a trio, remember? I told you about Marina—she’s been gone for years. Tanya from next door popped round yesterday. I offered her tea—she’s a lovely woman, always brings her own buns she bakes for her lot. She told me about her kids, her grandkids. She’s a good fifteen years younger than me, though, and all her childhood memories are so different.” “I just wish I had someone my own age to talk to,” Nina explained, knowing her daughter would never truly understand. She was too young. Her time was still outside that window—they weren’t just memories for her yet. It wasn’t about her daughter’s care, not really. “Mum, I’ve got tickets for the Tuesday night concert, remember you said you wanted to go? Now, enough moping, get your burgundy dress out—you look a picture in it!” “All right, love. I’m fine, really. Don’t mind me, I don’t know what’s come over me. Goodnight, darling—ring you tomorrow. Try and get an early night, you never get enough sleep,” Nina changed the subject. “Yes, Mum. Goodnight. Speak tomorrow.” Svetlana hung up. Nina stared out her window at the twinkling evening lights… Year Ten at school. It was spring, so many plans. Just yesterday, it seemed. Her friend Irene fancied Steve Mallard in their class. Steve, though, fancied Nina. He’d phone her at home in the evenings, ask her out for a walk. But she only thought of him as a mate—why give him hope? Steve left to join the army. Came back, got married. Lived near Irene’s old place. And his home phone number—Nina suddenly remembered it. She dialled it on impulse. The ring took a while; eventually, someone picked up. There was crackling, then a quiet male voice: “Hello? I’m listening.” Is it too late? Why did I ring him? Maybe Steve doesn’t remember me at all—or maybe it isn’t even him! “Good evening…” Nina said, her voice husky with nerves. There was more crackling, then a surprised, “Nina? Is that really you? Of course it is—you’ve got a voice I’ll never forget. How on earth did you find me? This is such a coincidence…” “Steve, you recognised me!” A rush of happy memories overwhelmed Nina. No one had called her just “Nina” for ages. It was always “Mum,” “Granny,” or “Mrs Anderson.” Only Irene ever used her first name now. But just “Nina” sounded so wonderful, so young, as though the years had melted away. “Nina, how are you? I’m so glad you rang,” Steve said and Nina’s fears faded. She was happy he’d remembered her. “Do you remember Year Ten? When Vic and I took you and Irene out on that boat? He wore his hands raw with the oars, tried to hide it. And we ate ice cream on the riverbank while the band played,” Steve’s voice was soft, lost in reminiscence. “Of course I remember!” Nina laughed, “And that camping trip in the woods with our class? When we couldn’t open the tins, and we were starving?” “Yeah!” Steve chuckled, “Vic finally got them open, then we all sang by the campfire. Remember? That’s when I decided to learn guitar.” “And did you?” Nina’s voice sparkled with youth, swept away on a tide of nostalgia as Steve unearthed more and more shared memories. “And how are you now?” Steve asked, then answered himself, “But what am I asking! Just from your voice I can tell you’re happy. Kids, grandkids, yeah? Still writing poetry? I remember! ‘To melt into the night, and rise again by morning!’ Always so full of hope.” “You always were a little ray of sunshine, Nina. Your family are lucky—having a mum and gran like you is an absolute gift.” “Oh, stop it, Steve, you’re laying it on thick! My time’s past…” He cut in, “Don’t be like that! You send out so much energy I can barely hold the phone! I’m joking. I don’t believe you’ve lost your zest for life—not with that voice. Your time’s far from over. So, Nina, get out there and enjoy it. The sun is shining for you. “The wind chases the clouds across the sky for you. “And the birds are singing for you!” “You hopeless romantic—what about you? You haven’t said anything about yourself!” Nina started, but the phone crackled, clicked, and went dead. Nina sat with the receiver in hand, thought about ringing back, but decided it was too late. Another time, perhaps. That chat with Steve—how many memories! How wonderful it was… The phone startled her with another shrill ring. Her granddaughter. “Yes, Dasha, love, I’m still up. What did your mum say? Yes, I’m in a great mood—we’re off to a concert together. You popping in tomorrow? Brilliant, see you then.” Feeling lighter than she had in ages, Nina went to bed. So many plans danced in her mind! As she drifted off, she began to compose new lines of poetry… The next morning, Nina set out to visit Irene. Just a few stops on the tram—she wasn’t ready for the scrapheap yet. Irene was delighted. “About time! You promised ages ago. And you brought my favourite apricot cake! Spill the beans,” Irene coughed, pressing a hand to her chest. But she waved it off, “It’s fine, this new inhaler’s a miracle. Tea’s on. Nina, you look positively glowing! What’s your secret?” “I don’t know, fifth youth maybe! You’ll never believe it—I accidentally rang Steve Mallard yesterday. Remember your crush in Year Ten? He looked back on everything, made me remember so much I’d forgotten. Why are you so quiet, Irene? Are you all right?” Irene sat pale, staring at Nina, then whispered, “Nina, don’t you know? Steve passed away a year ago. He’d moved long ago.” “What? No! But I spoke to him—he remembered every detail from our youth! I was so down before, but after that chat, I realised life goes on—I still have energy, I still want to live… How can it be?” “But it was his voice—I heard it. He said, ‘The sun is shining for you. The wind chases the clouds across the sky for you. And the birds are singing for you!’” Irene shook her head, unsure what to believe, then murmured, “Nina, I don’t know how it happened, but it must have been him. That’s exactly what Steve would say. He loved you, you know. Maybe he just wanted to lift your spirits—from wherever he is now. And it worked. You haven’t looked this alive in years.” One day, someone gathers up your battered heart piece by piece. And you finally remember—you simply are happy.

No one to talk to anymore.

Mum, what are you saying? How can you say youve no one to talk to? I ring you twice a day, my daughter said wearily.

No, Lottie, love, of course not, I sighed, feeling an ache that words only seem to tangle. Its just that I havent got any proper friends left now, nobody my age. No one from my own time.

Mum, dont be daft. Youve your school friend, Anne. And youre so up-to-date, you look so much younger than your years! Oh, Mum, come on now, whats this about? Lottie sounded truly bothered.

You know full well Annes asthma wont let her chat on the phone; shes always coughing if she tries. And she lives on the other side of Cambridge these days. There were three of us, remember? Ive told you before. Now, Marys been gone for years. Yesterday, Tanya from next door popped in. I offered her a cuppa shes a lovely woman, always stopping by to see me. She brought over some sweet buns shed baked for her lot. She told me all about her children and her grandkids. Shes got grandchildren now and shes a good fifteen years younger than me. Only, her memories of childhood and school are all so different.

What I long for is a conversation with someone from my own generation, someone who remembers the same things, I told all this to Lottie, but I knew she couldnt really understand. Shes too young yet. Her times here and now, out there in the world. Shes not pulled by the past the way I am. And its not that she doesnt care; shes a wonderful daughter.

Mum, Ive got tickets for Tuesdays classical evening. Remember you wanted to go? And dont you dare mope about, put on that burgundy dress you look smashing in it!

Of course, Lottie love, dont mind me, I dont know whats got into me these days. Good night. Ill phone tomorrow. Try to get to bed early, youre always tired, I changed the subject for both our sakes.

Yes, Mum. Goodnight, and with that, she hung up.

I sat quietly at the window for a while, gazing at the shimmer of evening in the street lamps…

Year eleven, another spring. So many plans then. How recent it feels. Anne fancied Tom Malley from our class. But Tom liked me. Hed phone the house in the evening, ask me out walking. But I saw him as just a friend, never wanted to lead him on.

Then Tom was off to the army. Came home, got married. Lived in the old street where Anne used to be. Only landlines back then. The number… I found myself dialling it out of the blue. The sound didnt come straight away, but then someone must have picked up. There was some rustling, and then a quiet male voice said:

Hello, Im listening.

Oh, maybe its too late? Why did I call? Maybe Tom doesnt even remember me. Perhaps its not him at all!
Good evening, my voice was scratchy with nerves.

Some more static on the line, and then sudden surprise:

Nina? Is that really you? It must be you. Id know your voice anywhere. How did you find me? Im hardly ever about here

Tom, you recognised me! Relief and happiness welled up in me. No one had called me just Nina for ages its always Mum, Grandma, or Mrs Fletcher these days. Only Anne gets away with Nina.

But simply Nina it sounded wonderfully fresh, full of spring, like no years had passed at all.

Nina, how are you anyway? Its so good to hear your voice, he said warmly. Id been afraid he wouldnt know me or Id be an interruption.

Do you remember year eleven? You and Pete Watson rowing Anne and me in that old boat on the Cam? Petes hands were covered in blisters from the oars tried to pretend not and then we had ice creams on the riverbank. They had a band playing, Toms voice was quiet, full of nostalgia.

Of course I remember! I laughed, and that camping trip when we couldnt even open the tins and were starving!

Exactly! Tom chuckled. Pete managed to open one somehow, and then we sat around singing by the campfire, remember? Afterwards, I swore Id learn to play guitar.

Did you ever manage it? My whole voice felt lighter, younger, memories streaming in. Toms words made our past real again, each detail bringing us back.

How are you now? Tom asked, and before I could answer, No, I can hear in your voice, you sound so well. Children, grandchildren, yes? And you still write poems? I havent forgotten! Fade into the night, and rise anew at dawn! So full of hope.

You always were the sunshine calmed us all, made things warmer by just being there. Your familys lucky, you know, having a mum and granny like you youre a treasure.

Oh, Tom you flatterer! My best days are behind me, really

He cut in:

Dont talk nonsense you sound as full of energy as ever, my phone cant take it! he joked. Dont believe for a second youve lost your zest for life. Theres plenty of time left for you yet, Nina. The world is still yours.

The sun shines for you.

The skys clouds sail for you.

The birds sing for you!

Still a dreamer, Tom. And what about you? Im all me me me… Suddenly static and a click. The call was gone.

I sat there with the phone in my hand. I almost rang back, but decided it was too late to disturb anyone again. Perhaps another time.

What a talk it had been. So many memories. The sharp jangle of the phone startled me my granddaughter.

Hi, Ella. No, Im not asleep. What did your mum say? No, honestly, Im in wonderful spirits. Going to the concert with her. See you tomorrow? Lovely, looking forward to it. Bye for now.

In a brilliant mood, I went to bed. My mind was full of plans! As I drifted off, lines of verse fell into place in my head…

In the morning, I decided to pay Anne a call. Only a few tram stops away, after all Im not over the hill yet.

Anne was simply delighted:

At last, you made it. Ooh, is that an apricot tart? My favourite! Go on then, tell me, Anne coughed, holding her chest; but waved it away, smiling.

All fine, Ive got a new inhaler, much better. Lets have that tea. You look younger, you do. Out with it, whats happened?

Not sure, fifth youth maybe, can you believe it yesterday I rang Tom Malley by accident. You remember, dont you, your crush in year eleven? He started reminiscing, and some things Id totally forgotten were suddenly back. Why are you so quiet, Anne, you alright?

Anne was pale, just staring at me. Then she whispered:

Nina, you didnt know? Toms been gone a year now. He moved out from that old flat ages ago, too.

No! Honestly? But who was I talking to, then? He remembered everything about our teenage years. Id been feeling so down before… but after our talk, I suddenly felt it life keeps moving on, theres still energy, still a zest for it… How can it be?

It was his very voice, Im certain. He said, The sun shines for you. The breeze moves the clouds for you. The birds sing for you!

Anne shook her head as if she hardly believed my story. Then declared:

Nina, I dont know how it happened, but it sounds like it really was him. His words, his way. Tom never stopped caring about you. Maybe he reached out… from wherever he is now. And you know what? He managed to cheer you. I havent seen you so lively in ages.

One day, someone will help you gather all the pieces of your worn old heart. And youll finally remember that you were simply, quietly happy.