Her tune doesn't settle - every time it sounds like she's hit on something comfortable, she immediately gets uncertain or out and out spooked, like a cat in a room full of rocking chairs - and it's keeping J on edge. He keeps his hands on his mug, forcing himself to be calm. Just because she's twitchy doesn't mean he gets to tap into her tune, even if he knows he can soothe it; she hasn't asked for his help, and that's the end of that.

He doesn't try to unpack what she's just said - there's layers, and she doesn't seem to want to talk about it too much as it is. "Sounds like he's lucky to have you." If she's going to fish-out-of-water it this badly just to help someone, then she's dedicated and the kid's lucky.

And then, because he can't help himself: "Was he on a beach? In your dreams, I mean."