Helpline: Vinegar and brown paper

Jill's not looking in a good state.
"You shouldn't have laughed," says Reverie.
I shrug. "She's not dead, is she?"
"No."
"Well then."
"It's still your fucking fault. She'd have every right to sue you."
"That's what the public liability insurance was for. Anyway, I wasn't directly responsible."
"It's still your fucking fault."
I put my hand on the door handle then look at Reverie. She nods and we go in.
"Alright Jill."
She nods.
"How are you feeling?"
"Not good."
"I don't get what happened."
Jill looks me in the eye. "Really?"
"Sure."
"It was the day after I met that woman. The one with the cat and the balloons."
"Right."
"I thought I saw her down the street and when I called out she started running away so I went after her and... well it's my own fault isn't it?"
"I had a friend who got knocked down I say. Walked out of a pub, drunk and straight into a Land Rover. He didn't even remember about it in the morning, I mean you know... not a scratch."
"You weren't drunk?" says Reverie.
Jill shakes her head.
"There's a reason for alcoholism."
I nod.
"You don't know who she is?"
I shrug. "She's just someone who rang the line."
"Right."
"Look, it's not like I can tell you." I say. "If she didn't say anything then I can't, you know?"
"Yeah, I get it."
"Why don't you just go around to her house?" says Reverie.
I look at her.
"What?"
"Don't go around to her house." I say. "She'd have every right to call the police."
"I don't get it?" says Jill. "She was so damaged. So weird. I really thought she needed my help." she sighs. "We connected, you know?"
Reverie's looking at me.
"It's hard." I say.
"And then she just didn't want anything to do with me."
"Yeah. I mean, it's her choice, at the end of the day."
"I went in and the house was just filled with balloons. I tried to call, actually. You know? - it was really weird. I nearly didn't go in and then this voice calls out from somewhere in the house."
"What did she say?"
I look at Reverie.
"She just asked me if I wanted a cuppa. Nothing weird. It was just that: Do you want a cuppa? I was like..."
"And she's pushes her way through the balloons. Tell me not to mind them, that she's just been bored.
Reverie frowns. "She doesn't sound damaged."
"Well who does that out of boredom? She had this cat and every once in a while a balloon would pop and it would go mental. I threatened to call the RSPCA."
"No wonder she ran off."
"What did she need doing?" I say.
"She had a couple more bags of balloons to blow up. She said she'd run out of puff."
"Right. So you told her where to go?"
"I sat and did a few, well a bag. She sat and talked to me, just about, you know? Her day. She never once mentioned the balloons. I asked if her cat was alright and she said it was fine but it was just freaking out and I didn't know what else to do."
"You did the right thing," I say.
"So did you call them?"
Jill shakes her head.
Reverie looks at me. "I'm gonna go smoke a cigarette."
"You'll be alright won't you?" I say.
Jill smiles and nods.
"Good." I say.
We leave.
"What the fuck are you going to do now?" says Reverie.
I don't answer her.