"...fine, I'll do it." Not that he wanted to. He hated the smell of cigarettes - and cheap booze for that matter - both associated with his father. But the combination of the despair in Jonathan's voice and entire demeanour and his own curiosity to find out more worked wonders and so he stuffed the bills into his own pockets and kept walking with Jonathan, unsure what was the right thing to do. "You need to actually eat something too, Jonny. Promise you will after I get you the stuff."