Melinda's lips quirked. "Thanks," she said, though she didn't quite believe him. She looked down at their hands, a wee bit surprised, though she smiled at him genuinely, squeezing his fingers back.
"You're a popular man, Roger, of course you have some sort of party or something." Shrugging, she picked at her eggs. "Just with ... everything. Your flat being broken into, the shite going on at work ... it's all very tense. Nobody seems to be in a party mood."