Joan came through from the kitchen with a bag of frozen peas in a tea towel, then went back for the coffee to set down next to Tigs.
"So," she said as she sat down opposite with her own mug in hand, "lucky your bones aren't broken. Must hurt, though." She'd heard the doctor, knew it was a crushing injury. But how and by whom, she did not know. And she'd like to, because Joan did thrive on a righteous battle.