Dennis Wheatley: Sixty Days to Live

Gervaise was not listening to his brother's rather vague apology for his pronouncement, which might well be calculated utterly to disrupt the even tenor of all their lives. He was studying the expressions of the people grouped about him.

Derek Burroughs' open face showed quite clearly that the full import of Oliver's words had not yet come home to him. Sir Samuel Curry's was veiled, but Gervaise felt instinctively that the millionaire believed Oliver to be a crank, although he was much too polite to say so.

Margery had entered the room while they were talking and she had also been present during the earlier part of the discussion, before the arrival of Lavina and Derek. Her father knew that, although for a long time she had given up going to church, she was still imbued with the rather narrow religious beliefs of her youth; and therefore regarded Oliver's prognostications with a somewhat similar disbelief to that displayed by the priests of the Middle Ages when Galileo declared the world to be round. He gave an inward chuckle at the thought that her reactions could almost be summed up with some such phrase as 'I'm sure God would never permit His creatures all to be wiped out, without warning, like that.'

Gervaise's eye then fell upon his youngest daughter. Lavina, he knew, was a fatalist and she had unbounded faith in her uncle's scientific knowledge. The night before she had thought that he was joking, but it was clear that she had now accepted his prophecy of death for all mankind without further question.

Gervaise was not surprised when she laid her hand on Sam Curry's arm and said, 'Well, if we've only got sixty days, darling, I'll marry you just as soon as you like.'

A Strange Premonition

When Lavina had promised Sam Carry that she would mairy him just as soon as he liked, she had not meant that quite literally; and the ten days that followed seemed to her one long series of abominably crowded hours punctaated by intervals of exhausted sleep.

At times he chaffed her, on the lines that, if the world was really coming to an end on June 24th, why should she worry herself about a hundred little things which would not matter to anyone on June 25th.

As the passing days had not in the least shaken her belief in the accuracy of her uncle's scientific prediction, she admitted, that many of her activities were really a waste of time; yet some innate sense compelled her to put her house in order. She spent hours with her agent, who thought her mad, wrangling about the cancellation of future contracts; and further hours endeavouring to placate irate film magnates. In addition, she had made up her mind that, even if she was not going to have a big wedding, that was no reason at all why she should not get herself a complete trousseau, and her dressmakers claimed her constant attention.

Sam had not pressed her unduly about the date of the wedding, as he did not believe for one moment that the world was coming to an end on June 24th, but he got her to agree to marry him on May 12th and in the meantime he was anxious that she should meet as many of his friends as possible; for which purpose he arranged a series of luncheons at his big house in St. James's Square.

Most of these were large affairs but on May 8th he had a small party consisting of Mr. and Mrs. Fink-Drummond, the Marchesa del Serilla and Captain Rupert Brand. Conchita del Serilla was an old friend of Sam's and it was he who had introduced her to Rupert Brand, the ace airman. They had fallen for each other at once and were now engaged to be married, which made Sam rather pleased with himself. He was, therefore, particularly anxious that Lavina should get to know and like them.

Having called for Lavina at Aage Thaarup's and dragged her away from the collection of hats which that expert was making for her, Sam told her on the short drive back to St. James's Square something of the people whom she was going to meet.

'The Marchesa sounds most seductive,' Lavina smiled. 'I shall be diabolically jealous of her, though. I'm sure you know her much better than you're prepared to admit.'

'Oh, not really.' Sam looked a little self-consciously at his feet. 'She's a good-looker, of course, but she had a ghastly time in Spain. She was pretty badly beaten up by those swine in the Revolution and she just wouldn't look at a man after that—till she met Rupert. He's a grand chap and they're absolutely made for each other. Neither of them are children and I believe they've both fallen really in love for the first time. It's only when you've had plenty of experience that you recognise when a person's really worth while, you know.'

Lavina shot a swift glance at the greying hair above Sam's strong features. He had never concealed the fact that he had had plenty of experience.

'Does that apply to women, too?' she could not resist asking with just a shade of gentle mockery.

'Lord, no! Women are different,' he laughed, 'although Con-chita must be thirty-ish.'

'What are the Fink-Drummonds like?' she inquired, to break the little silence that followed.

'Surely you know about them. He resigned from the Government about a year ago. Made a great song and dance about it. Thought he could split the Cabinet and force them to go to the country; but he didn't pull it off. He's not quite as clever as he thinks he is, but he's been mighty useful to me in a business way and may be again if a sudden twist of the political wheel brings him back into power. That's why I want you to be nice to him.'

'I see. He's the puppet and you pull the strings. How clever of you, Sam darling. But what about her? She was a famous! beauty, wasn't she?'

'That's right. She's hard as nails and has had lovers by the score, but she still believes he'll be Prime Minister one day. She'd like to move into No. 10 Downing Street, and, through her boy-friends, she wields enormous influence. That's why they married and why they stick together.'

Over cocktails Lavina met the people of whom they had been talking. Fink-Drummond was a tall, dark man, with a pompous manner, a very prominent nose and a rather weak china his wife certainly had been beautiful in her youth and was beautiful still. Her large, rather tired blue eyes looked out of a pale, oval face, crowned by not too obviously touched-up golden hair. She was as slim as a sylph and as icy as a February wind. Lavina took an instinctive dislike to the Fink-Drum-monds, but, having Sam to consider, she used all her cleverness to conceal it.

Her view of Conchita del Serilla and Rupert Brand was entirely different. The big, dark eyes of the lovely Spanish Marchesa were friendly and sincere, while the strong, light-grey ones of the airman held courage and good faith. To anyone coming from Lavina's sophisticated world it was a joy to see two people who so obviously adored each other and made no bones about showing it.

It was after lunch when the servants had left the room that Fink-Drummond said:

'I heard an extraordinary thing this morning. Although I'm no longer in the Cabinet, I know everything that's going on. I've plenty of friends on the inside, still, who keep me well informed. Apparently, the P.M. is considerably disturbed about a comet that's coming our way. Of course, it's all very hush-hush, but the Astronomer Royal reported it some days ago, and it appears they're afraid now that somewhere towards the end of June it's going to hit us.'

'That seems a pretty tall story,' laughed Captain Brand, as Lavina and Sam exchanged a quick glance.

'It certainly seems so on the face of it,' Fink-Drummond admitted. 'I shouldn't have taken any serious notice of the story myself if it hadn't come from an impeccable source. I'm told, though, that some members of the Cabinet are seriously alarmed. They seem to think it may bring about the end of the world.'

'How absurd!' exclaimed his wife. 'And just the sort of stupid story which might create a panic. But perhaps that's the explanation. The P.M.'s clever. He's quite capable of using it to force a General Election in order to get the Government home again on a wave of hysteria.'