I’M BEING plagued by nusiance phone calls at the moment.

Not the heavy breathing sort, but the ones where you’re just putting a pan of pasta on, hear the phone ringing at the opposite end of the house, leg it down the hallway because you know the answerphone machine is going to kick in on the fourth ring, answer with as polite a ‘hello’ as possible bearing in mind you’ve just strained your calf jumping over the dog, and then ARGH! you’re greeted with a long pause and an automated voice saying: ‘Do you need a loan? Do you have poor credit history ...’ (Phew, that was a long sentence wasn’t it?) At least when it’s a recorded message you can just hang up quick. But when it’s a chap telling you you’re entitled to a mobile phone upgrade do you listen to what’s on offer, lie that you don’t have a mobile, or give him some earache about the fact your pan’s just boiled over?

I’ve been meaning to try a technique my friend employs.

Every time someone rings trying to sell her something she politely declines then follows with something along the lines of: “Actually, seeing as you’re on the phone could you do me a favour and answer me a few questions? I’m doing a survey ...”

She says it’s the quickest way of getting them off the phone.

I’ve also tried to outwit a callcentre worker, with less successful results.

I was making a call on behalf of my mum and had been listening to ‘Greensleeves’ for 48 long minutes before my call was answered and I was told I had the wrong department. Some 34 minutes later I got the right guy, but he wouldn’t speak to me as I wasn’t the account holder.

I argued I’d been on the phone 81 minutes, I was the account holder’s daughter and it was not a sensitive matter, but he wouldn’t have it – so I employed my not-so-clever acting skills.

“Hang on, I just heard her coming in, I’ll put you on,” I fibbed, putting the phone on the side. I went to the other side of the room, opened and shut the door and then walked with exaggerated footsteps back to the desk.

“Heelloo” I said in a deep voice, “Susan here”.

I started regaling him with the problems we’d been experienc-ing until he interrupted and said: ‘Madam, why are you talking like Brian Blessed?’