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Dennis Wheatley: Sixty Days to Live

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Her Uncle Oliver, the distinguished astronomer, told Lavina: 'It would be a pity for you to die without the experience of marriage, my dear. A comet is due to hit the earth on the 24th of June and none of us has more than sixty days to live.' Once the cat was out of the bag, things began to happen. A plot to overthrow the Government. Panic, riots, street fighting. London under martial law. Fire, flood and tempest: the world gone mad. Scene after scene of breath-taking excitement, written with all that vigour and suspense which has made Dennis Wheatley's books so eagerly sought after all over the world.

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Fink-Drummond nodded. 'That occurred to me, but I don't think that's the game. I hear they're determined to keep it from the public as long as possible, so it looks as if they were genuinely scared.'

'What would happen if it were really true?' asked the Mar-chesa, in her deep, husky voice.

'I don't really know.' Fink-Drummond considered for a moment. 'Probably we'd have earthquakes, great tidal waves, and that sort of thing.'

Rupert Brand laughed. 'Then the only safe place would be in the air. My new plane, which is specially equipped for stratosphere flying, would be just the thing. Whatever happened down here, we'd be safe enough up on the ceiling; then we'd land again when the tidal waves had subsided.' He looked across with smiling eyes at Conchita.

'What a honeymoon,' she purred. 'Perhaps, when we came down again there'd be no one left alive on the earth, so we should have to start the world all over again, like Adam and Eve, in a new Garden of Eden.'

Mrs. Fink-Drummond smiled a little weakly. 'It sounds too enchanting, but I don't think being up in the air would help you much if this comet really crashed into us.'

'It won't,' her husband declared pompously. 'Comets are only composed of meteorites and gas, so there is no question of any actual collision.'

'Are you quite sure about that?' Lavina inquired politely. 'I was under the impression that some comets were solid.'

'Oh, no, you've been misinformed there,' Fink-Drummond contradicted her quickly.

Lavina considered her uncle a much better authority upon astronomical matters than the ex-Cabinet Minister, but she tactfully refrained from mentioning the source of her own information.

B

'I really can't believe there is anything in this story of yours. Finkie,' Sam remarked. 'The world has survived for such billions of years, with comets rushing about the heavens the whole time. It seems to be an incredibly long chance against one hitting the earth head-on during the infinitesimal span of time that constitutes our own lives.'

'Of course, there's nothing in it. Can't be,' Fink-Drummond agreed. 'Anyway, no more than that a comet may pass within a few score million miles and appear as a big, bright new star in the heavens for a time.'

'That's about it,' Sam nodded. 'Just like the comet of 1811. I remember reading somewhere that people thought then that the world was coming to an end, and there were all sorts of demonstrations and riots in consequence.'

Beatrice Fink-Drummond screwed another cigarette into a long jade holder. 'That is evidently what the Cabinet are worrying themselves about. They fear that ignorant people will get frightened without cause, and that somebody may play upon their fears to make trouble for the Government.'

Lavina saw Fink-Drummond's eyes suddenly narrow, as though an idea had just occurred to him. But he said nothing.

'Well, if there is any excitement,' Sam remarked, 'we should be back just in time for it. I wanted to do a trip round the world, but Lavina says, "Let's save that for the winter."'

'Yes, a month to five weeks is quite long enough now,' Lavina smiled. 'Then I want to get settled in my new home.'

'Where are you going?' Beatrice Fink-Drummond asked. 'Or is that a secret?'

'Goodness, no!' Sam cut in. 'But it's going to be about the queerest honeymoon that you could imagine for two people like ourselves. We're both a bit tired of city lights and crowds and dressing-up, so, after a few days in Paris, we're going south, to the Pyrenees. Once we get there, we're going to abandon Lavina's maid, my man, and nine-tenths of the luggage. Just take the car up into those lovely, sun-baked pine woods along the foothills of the mountains and lead the simple life. Stay at tiny places, do a bit of walking, and, in fact, get some real fun out of the one sort of holiday that neither of us has ever dreamed of trying before.'

'My dear, how primitive!' Beatrice Fink-Drummond made a pretence of being shocked. 'You really must love each other almost indecently if you're not afraid of getting bored with five weeks of that.'

'Either you love a person or you don't,' Rupert Brand took her up swiftly, 'and, if you do, those first few weeks alone together must be heaven. Most of us are such fools that we fritter away all our lives mixing with crowds of mainly stupid people most of whom we don't care two hoots about.'

Without waiting for a reply he turned to Lavina. 'Will you forgive me if I go now? I've got a flying appointment down at Heston.'

His departure broke up the party, and when Sam's guests had gone Lavina said suddenly:

'Well, my unbelieving love, what about the comet now?'

He shrugged. 'I don't see that what Finkie said changes the situation. We've never questioned your uncle's statement that a comet is coming our way, and, naturally, the Astronomer Royal would report that to the Cabinet. It doesn't follow that it's going to smash us up, though.'

'I must confess that there are times when I can't really believe that Oliver's right about the comet hitting the earth,' she admitted. 'The idea that we're actually going to witness the end of the world is too utterly fantastic. All the same, I'm sure the old boy believes it himself, and he's such a very brilliant scientist that somehow I don't think he can be mistaken.'

Sam took her hand and squeezed it. 'Don't worry your sweet head about it. If it comes, it comes. In the meantime, we're going to have five glorious weeks together and, personally, I don't care if the whole box of tricks does blow up after that.'

'Nor do I, Sam darling.' She lifted her face to his kiss and for a few moments they lingered together. Then, as he led her out into the hall, he said:

"By the by, Hemmingway got back last night and I gave him details of all the alterations that you want made to the rooms during our absence. I think you ought to go over them with him, though, in case I've forgotten anything, and anyhow, I want you to meet him.'

'Yes, I'd like to. He's your secretary, isn't he?'

'Hemmingway Hughes is something much more than that. I've come to regard him as my closest personal friend and he would have lunched with us today if he hadn't had urgent business in the City. He's half American, you know, and has just returned from a trip to the States where he's been conducting some secret negotiations for me, while ostensibly on a visit to his mother.'

'You must trust him a lot, then. How old is he?'

'He's only twenty-nine or thirty but he has the ablest brain for his age of any man I've ever met and he's extraordinarily knowledgeable about books and art and all sorts of other things outside business. I do hope you'll like him.'

'I hope so, too, although he sounds rather frightening.'

Sam took her up to the first floor and opened the door of a big room at the back of the house. A youngish man was seated there, behind a desk. As he rose at their entrance, Lavina saw that he was about six feet tall, and well-built without being unduly heavy. His dark hair, which curled slightly, had receded a little, which made his broad, high forehead a particularly outstanding feature; but it was his eyes which were most remarkable. They were dark, intense, and seemed to have a quality of wisdom and age about them far beyond the years of their owner.

'Hemmingway,' said Sam, 'I'm most anxious for you to meet my fiancee, Lavina Stapleton. Darling, this is my friend, Hemmingway Hughes.'

For a second Lavina felt as though those strange eyes of Hemmingway's were looking down into the most secret recesses of her mind; then his pale, young-old face was lit by a smile. 'It's grand to meet you in the flesh,' he said. 'I've often admired you as Lavina Leigh in your pictures.'

'That's nice of you,' Lavina smiled in reply. 'Sam tells me that you're his second self, so I shall be seeing lots of you, and I do hope we'll be good friends.'

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