And Lord, if ever there was a time to keep her heart under control, it was now. She’d lain awake for the past few nights, mind racing as she frantically tried to come up with something to stop that lowlife from making money again. Until now, she’d only drawn a blank. Draping a silk scarf around her chignon, she belted a light summer coat over an immaculate trouser suit. The ache in her hip told her that, while the sun was out now, rain was just around the corner. Grasping her cane, she opened the door, trying not to look in the direction of the nearby campsite. It was impossible to escape the noise, though. Day or night, music and voices of people worshipping the new Marilyn drifted toward her house. Cissy hobbled slowly down the small country lane, pulling the scarf so it shielded her face from view. Drops started falling from the sky and she raised her head to see a cloud sliding over the sun. Opening her handbag to get out an umbrella, she noticed a large woman in an obscenely bright, floral-patterned blouse stapling something to a tree.
