Gurinder Dulai couldn’t be better qualified for his job as an adviser on the National Debtline. He used to work as an independent financial adviser, so has excellent background knowledge. His composed demeanour, which would make even His Holiness the Dalai Llama seem highly strung, gives him the perfect telephone manner. And he comes from a Punjabi Sikh background, a religious grouping that, according to the Financial Services Authority, is among the best in Britain at making ends meet.

“Come to think of it, I’ve been here two years now and not taken a single call from a Punjabi,” he remarks as he puts on a Britney Spears-style telephone headset at the start of a day’s work. “Only a matter of time though.”

With the press of a button he is plugged into the National Debtline, which is run by the Money Advice Trust charity, and based on the eighth floor of a tower block overlooking Birmingham city centre. This time of year is always the busiest; and the economic downturn has resulted in a surge of queries. So much so that the Treasury recently announced an additional £5.85 million funding over two years, which means the National Debtline will be able to recruit 45-50 debt advisers during 2009, and be able to help about 175,000 people, compared with 115,000 in 2008.

The first call is from a fiftysomething unemployed man from Dorset, who has no assets to his name, receives no benefits and is in debt to the tune of £20,000. “My credit rating is shot to pieces,” he complains, sadly.

The next is from an unemployed and, frankly, stoned 19-year-old who claims he is being pursued by a debt collection agency for a mobile phone debt of £1,103. “It’s not my bill. My ex-girlfriend stitched me right up.”

There follow inquiries from a man in his twenties about how to claim back bank charges, and a call from a man in his forties who is being harassed by creditors for a debt of £12,000.

In each case Mr Dulai begins by establishing the caller’s circumstances, before running through various options, which could range from informally negotiating with creditors to bankruptcy.

It may sound like classic call centre work — but it isn’t. There is no fixed script, the advice ranges from the basic to the intricate, advisers spend no more than five hours a day on the phone (the rest of the time is spent handling e-mails and letters), and there are no rigid guidelines on how long conversations should last. Today one of Mr Dulai’s queries goes on for half an hour, while another, around midday, lasts barely a tenth of that time. It is from a 39-year-old single mother who works full-time but has sunk into £15,000 debt, having purchased a brand-new BMW last year.

“I think I need help,” she says. “I’ve missed a council tax payment and my creditors are on to me constantly.” Mr Dulai runs through the options open to her, but she loses patience at the mention of a personal budget. “Look, I just need a company which will manage my outgoings for me. One that doesn’t charge a fee.”

Mr Dulai informs her that he can recommend a company, but she still needs to do a tally of her income and outgoings before he can do so. “It’s all a bit time-consuming before Christmas, innit?”

The call ends abruptly, leaving a host of unanswered questions hanging in the air. “She wanted a magic answer on the phone,” said Mr Dulai. “Hopefully she’ll call back.”

At the end of his shift, a computerised summary tells him that he has taken 12 calls, spent an average of 18 minutes on each, and an average of seven minutes writing up notes on every case, in case the caller rings back. He has also replied to a letter, and sent an e-mail to a woman who earns £51,000 a year, but has been left heavily indebted after a divorce and her failure to sell a house (“It’s been on the market for nine months and I’ve sold my belongings on eBay. No one will help because I earn too much”).

Perhaps there is something liberating about hitting crisis point? “Maybe. Sometimes you catch up with people who have been in financial difficulties with massive mortgages, and they are now living in rented accommodation, and are much, much happier.”

And what about his own finances? Are they chaotic like so many financial professionals’ finances tend to be? Bet he has an impossible mortgage. “I live with my parents, actually.” Car? “I cycle to work.” Indulgences? “Food . . .” Aha! Eating out can be expensive. “To be honest, it’s more a case of finding the right ingredients for cooking.” Credit cards? “Only for emergencies, and internet shopping. I pay it off straight away at the end of each month, though. Punjabi thing, I suppose.”

Job description

Name Gurinder Dulai

Job Adviser, National Debtline

Age 28

Time in job Two years

Hours 35, 9am to 5pm

Holidays 28 days

Salary £30,500

Best thing about the job Showing a light at the end of the tunnel

Worst thing When clients cannot understand the advice

Easier clients? Younger, northern men

Tougher clients? Older, southern, wealthier. “The better off people are, the harder that you have to work to get information out of them. It might be pride”