It earns her a low noise, a gentle swatting at her ankles, but he gives over after a minute or two: shuts the tablet down, folds it over and smuggles it back into his satchel before leaning over. He pats her high on the thigh, good natured enough, on the way to reaching for the pitcher of beer.

"Probably ought to see if we can get a lift tomorrow - save us an hour or two of walking there and back."