Team of Bristol volunteers provide vital support to domestic abuse victims

I know he does it because he loves me... These are the words often spoken by victims of domestic violence.

But according to helpline volunteers, they are usually a gentle precursor to terrifying accounts of rape, razor blade attacks, beatings and humiliation.

"One of the hardest things is to hear about children being abused," says Nina, who is in her fourth year at Women's Aid – a charity which supports domestic abuse survivors.

"But also when a woman's confidence is shattered she doesn't realise she's a victim.

"Often callers begin by saying: "It's not domestic violence, but..." Then you hear about them being forced into sex, being stalked by men, or beaten.

"Sometimes you can hear the perpetrator stomping around in the background – which is really scary."

The 24-hour national helpline means at least two volunteers must work the graveyard shift from 11pm-8am.

Alone at night, in an austere central Bristol building, the volunteers steel themselves against incoming calls.

Most are from women who have no more than a snatched moment away from a brutal existence.

Some have been hurled down the stairs by partners in a blind fit of rage. Others suffer a constant torrent of vile, denigrating verbal abuse.

"You have to develop a degree of professional detatchment," adds Nina. "Sometimes you hear stories with details that are so horrific. But it's about being objective."

Worker surnames and the office address are witheld to protect the staff from being hounded by perpetrators.

Lisa Johnson, who coordinates the helpline, is a survivor of domestic abuse she received in childhood.

She has worked at the National Domestic Violence Helpline, run in partnership between Women's Aid and Refuge, for 12 years.

"Often callers will ring for the first time when the perpetrator is out of the house," she says.

"He might be drunk and have passed out, or he might be thrashing around upstairs. It may be the only chance she has to call.

"It's really difficult to listen to details told for the first time by a caller. They can be quite graphic. It's like re-living it."

Perpetrators may check phone bills or listen in to calls to see what numbers their partners have been calling, says Lisa.

Manager Sue Haile said: "It's a very trying job and you need to get out of it, especially if you get a series of difficult calls.

"We try to get our workers off the line for a break. We have a very good peer support system here."

Dressed in a soft grey suit, Sue cuts a matriarchal figure in this outfit run entirely by women.

The only man wandering about is a rogue member of the IT department.

Certainly Nina and her colleague Jane talk of their role as part of a family unit.

Jane, who joined more than three years ago, said: "We're all very, very close here. The bond between us is unique.

Nina points out that the job can be a thankless task. Women who have escaped violence look to the future – figuring out how to cope after the life-saving break.

She adds: "But we're like a family here. We get so much support from Sue and Lisa. I think my colleagues know me better than my friends outside do."

Nina has a background studying sexual violence and rape as part of her university degree.

Later she joined the helpline – moved by the fact that one in four women will suffer domestic violence in their lifetime.

But all volunteers undergo rigorous training in call handling, domestic violence awareness and the law.

Lisa says: "As a caller you need to trust the helpline. You need to believe that when you ring up you will be speaking in a non-judgmental and confidential space."

Lucy's day begins with taking calls at 10am from her desk in a room only big enough for four workers.

Many are from women seeking a place in a refuge away from the "danger zone".

"One woman from the south of England wanted a refuge centre as far away in possible in Scotlan.

"She had moved 11 times in three years because the perpetrator kept on finding her, or getting close. He wanted to kill her."

These women represent more than a sympathetic ear, their role is to throw a lifeline to women at risk from unthinkable cruelty.

Call the National Domestic Violence Helpline, run in partnership between Women's Aid and Refuge freephone on 0808 2000 247.

Potential Bristol volunteers should contact Women's Aid on 0117 944 44 11 or info@womensaid.org.uk.