“Come on, Eli, you can’t stay mad forever.”
“He didn’t even want to hear what the money was for. He just jumped to his usual shitty conclusions and treated me like I was a fucking eleven-year-old. Just drop it, Jen,” he added sharply when she opened her mouth. “I don’t want to talk about Dad and his being a shit the whole time.”
“Well…if it was a cheque…Rob could write you another?”
“He wired it me,” Eli said shortly.
“How much?”
“Seven hundred and forty-two pounds.”
Jenny shrieked and nearly spilled her drink, just as Rob returned with his and Eli’s pints.
“‘Sup with you?” Rob asked.
“You gave Eli seven hundred pounds?”
Rob raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, I did.” He dropped into his seat and took a healthy gulp of his pint. “Not like I needed it for shit.”
“It was lovely,” Eli said firmly, twisting his fingers in Rob’s and squeezing. “Anyway, Jenny, how are you? How’s work?”