CHAPTER 11: AUGUST PEOPLEHARRY WAS REMARKING THAT HE really ought to go find his wife, when the tent flap opened and there she was.
Pam Nash’s sandy hair stuck out in every direction. She looked oddly ghost-like, with hardly a trace of lipstick and a face as pale as her rumpled linen dress.
She glanced at Lydia and Mudge without recognition, as if they were street signs for the wrong neighborhood.
Harry held out his arms and Pam walked into them.
Lydia began peeling away the tablecloth. I was adored once too.
Mudge beckoned at her to come farther back, behind the table, where they could sneak away unnoticed.
“Wait,” said Pam. “Sorry. I’m so sorry. Both of you. About your friend.”
“Thanks,” said Mudge.
“If you want to go, leave all this till tomorrow, that’s fine. Or stay if you wa
