I'm all hung up about the phone: Alexander Graham Bell has a lot to answer for, reckons Kat Thurston

MY parents always took the telephone off the hook from before dinner until about 10am the following day. This was after they had drunk a second cup of coffee and read the newspapers. Nothing in life was so important that they would allow it to interrupt their peaceful evenings, sleep-filled nights and leisurely mornings.

I, instead, wanted to be on call 24 hours a day. I never wanted to be away from it. I had mobiles, bleepers, answering machines, extensions in every room. My whole life revolved around whether or not someone would ring me up with an offer of a job. I work freelance. But nowadays it seldom rings. The silence deafens me.

How I wish I had lived in Victorian times, before Mr Bell released his invention on the world. When you had to call on people and talk to them face to face. When people had to communicate by letter, their thoughts premeditated and organised on the page.

In a letter, you express yourself much more honestly. Because you are usually alone, communicating with yourself as you write, it's difficult to lie.

The telephone conversation is full of deceit. You can't tell if someone has their fingers crossed, or see their eyes flicker as they tell you they still love you. There can be no awkward silences in a letter.

People who phone you automatically have the upper hand. They've got a few quiet moments, they are sitting comfortably and are feeling relaxed. You, on the other hand, are probably at a distinct disadvantage. You are in the loo, or maybe in the middle of creating a souffle for a dinner party, or having a terminal row with your partner, or stopping the cats or the kids from licking the serrated top of an open tin. It is always an intrusion.

Or maybe you're just feeling withdrawn and depressed. There are many times when I phone friends and this mousy voice whispers back at me, breaking up as it replies, 'I'm well, and you?'. At the other extreme, there are those people who boom down the line, trying to create a false sense of confidence. They don't fool me.

And how often have you said something you didn't mean, as you didn't have time to think it through. I always think of the perfect thing to say hours later.

Business calls are no better. How I hate those awful lies: 'We'll get back to you', 'you'll be hearing from us'. They always use the anonymous 'we' or 'us', so as not to suffer personal guilt. But it's no better the other way round. How do you respond to that painful question: 'Why haven't you phoned?' You reply in a breathless voice, like you've just rushed in: 'I've been busy'. But no one is too busy. It's just so easy to pick up the telephone.