When Hemmingway came down to Stapleton on the evening of the 14th he said that in London the news had been accepted by the public better than the Government had anticipated. Everyone was talking ‘comet’ now, but taximen and bus conductors were joking about it and the great majority of people considered it only as an interesting event which would provide them with a little mild excitement in nine or ten days’ time. Stocks had made a slight recovery, as now the man-in-the-street knew the reason for their recent decline he had found renewed faith and was buying again, confident that the markets must take a turn for the better before very long.
One piece of good news Hemmingway brought was that he had at last succeeded in getting the more delicate parts of the Ark manufactured satisfactorily and that the engineers could now go ahead with its construction.
Meanwhile, Sam and Lavina remained in blissful ignorance of the agitated cipher cables which were flashing round the world from Government to Government; of the increasing tension on the Bourses where the brokers were growing more worried with every fresh rumour they heard from important clients, in spite of the fact that they were making fortunes out of the terrific buying and selling that was in constant progress; and of the gradual feeling of unrest and uncertainty that had been spreading during recent weeks among the peoples of the world.
The fact that a great comet was hurtling earthwards at many thousands of miles an hour was stale news to them and for weeks past they had known the worst possibilities that might have to be faced when it came flaming downwards from the heavens; yet they rarely spoke of it. Even on June 13th, when the world’s Press released the first official statements, they were so far off the beaten track that they did not see a paper or even hear the matter mentioned at the little inn where they were staying.
Their honeymoon had proved a great success, largely owing to their wise decision to break away from the type of luxury resort that they both knew well into an entirely new life which they had never sampled.
At first it had seemed a little strange to stay at small unpretentious places where there were no cocktail bars and members of the proprietor’s family were the only servants. But the rooms of the French inns were bright and clean, and although the cooking was plain it was almost always excellent.
For the first few days it had not been easy for either of them to adjust themselves to the idea of having nothing in the world to do and nowhere to go for either work or amusement; and stranger still to have to go to bed soon after sunset. But the utter rest did them an immense amount of good. The sunshine tanned their bodies to a golden brown, and the less they did the less they wanted to do except just laze about and talk to each other.
Sam had travelled in many parts of the world, whereas Lavina had never been outside England, except to Paris and for brief holidays to a few of the most famous Continental bathing beaches since she had become a film star. On the other hand, her education was very much better than Sam’s. Gervaise had seen to that and, without ever having consciously studied or been forced to sit for wearisome examinations, she had accumulated a great store of miscellaneous information on history, literature, religions and art. Sam knew the political game, the inside of all the major moves that had governed international relations in the last ten years, and he had met innumerable famous people. But he was a townsman, born and bred. Lavina knew nothing of such things and few people outside the film world, but she had lived nearly all her life in the country and was at home with all the wild life they met when strolling across the wooded mountainsides; the habits of birds and beasts, the names of flowers and trees were nearly all familiar to her. In consequence, as both were good listeners, they had an immense amount to talk about.
It was not until the morning of June 14th that the proprietor of the little inn where they were staying brought a copy of the previous day’s paper over to Sam just as he and Lavina were sitting down to their vermouth et syphon before lunch.
With a stubby forefinger the Frenchman pointed to a fourcolumn article on comets and their peculiarities. He did not seem the least perturbed at the announcement that a large one would shortly become visible and in ten days’ time pass comparatively near the earth; but pointed out the article as a matter that might be of interest. It was one of the many little courtesies by which he sought to retain the goodwill of his wealthy English visitors.
Sam thanked him and, as he moved away, looked across at Lavina. ‘So it’s out at last. I’m rather surprised that Hemmingway didn’t say anything about it in his letter that came in this morning. He must have known they intended to break it to the masses when he was writing.’
Lavina puffed lazily on her cigarette. ‘He’s hardly said anything in any of his letters except that business has been going as well as could be expected and that they’ve been having good weather in England. I think it’s rather decent of him to have taken everything on his own shoulders and not worried you with a single thing while we’ve been on our honeymoon.’
‘Yes. That’s like him. He’s a good boy and not afraid to take responsibility.’
A faint smile twitched the corners of Lavina’s beautifully modelled little mouth. Hemmingway was seven years older than herself so it had never occurred to her to regard him as a boy, but Sam, of course, was some sixteen years older than his gifted secretary. She bent over her husband’s shoulder to read the heavy black print of the French article on the comet and, after a moment, she remarked:
‘They don’t tell the whole story. There’s no suggestion that the comet may hit us or anything of that kind.’
‘No, they’re breaking it gently, I suppose. Or maybe your Uncle Oliver wasn’t right, after all.
‘I doubt that. Anyhow, we shall know if he’s still of the same opinion in three days’ time.’ She tapped the date on the paper with an unvarnished finger-nail of moderate length. After a few days in the wilds she had taken a quarter of an inch off the long, pointed, decorative claws of which she had been rather proud, and had ceased to enamel them.
‘This is yesterday’s paper,’ he said.
‘Why, so it is! Then we’ll be leaving here to-morrow.’
It came as quite a shock to realise that their honeymoon was almost over. Days and dates had meant nothing to them in the last five weeks, but they had all their reservations booked for the homeward journey on which they were due to start next day.
When they arrived in Biarritz to catch the Paris express they found everyone talking of the comet. The papers were now full of it, but there was still no indication in any of them that there might be cause for alarm.
On the evening of June 16th they were back in London. Hemmingway was at the station to meet them and he dined with them in St. James’s Square that night. They already knew from a guarded statement in one of his first letters that Fink-Drummond’s disappearance had been accounted for satisfactorily, but he had plenty of other things to tell them about, including the construction of the Ark.
Sam at once approved everything he had done but, somewhat to Lavina’s disappointment, instead of going with her round the rooms which had been redecorated according to her wishes in her absence, the two men went into a huddle over business after dinner.
They discussed finance and the international situation exhaustively, yet it seemed that there was nothing further that could be done. Hemmingway had already taken every possible precaution to protect Sam’s interests. He had sold many blocks of shares at good prices before the decline set in and bought again at lower levels for delivery on June the 30th. If the world came to an end on June 24th, the prices of stocks would no longer matter to anyone, but, if it didn’t, Sam would reap enormous profits.
Nevertheless, many of the directors in Sam’s companies had been pressing Hemmingway to recall him for well over a fortnight and, although Hemmingway had steadfastly refused, it was clear that Sam would have to meet them at the earliest possible moment.
For the next two days he was kept frantically busy with such appointments. The shares of his own c
ompanies were falling with the rest, and his co-directors wrangled with him interminably at hastily called board meetings as to whether they should support their own shares with their private means or let them slump to any level.
It was not until the evening of the 18th, the second after their return, that Sam could find time to go down to Stapleton Court, and Lavina, who had been impatiently waiting for him to do so, accompanied him filled with curiosity about the Ark.
When they reached Stapleton, just after seven, they were amazed to see the upheaval that had taken place along the lake-shore in front of the house. The lawn was cut to ribbons; cranes, sheds, stacks of concrete blocks, steel girders and other building materials littered the place for two hundred yards round the flat surface on the lake-edge where a huge steel ball, over thirty feet in height, now stood.
Gervaise and the rest came out to greet the visitors at the entrance of the house, and both parties were unaffectedly glad to see each other. Margery held out her hand to Sam but he gave her a rather boisterous brotherly kiss, as he wanted to show her that he had not allowed any memory of her strange outburst on his wedding-day to rankle.
Meanwhile, at the sight of Lavina, Derek had caught his breath.
‘What is it?’ She laughed, as she saw him staring at her. ‘Has marriage changed me so much that you don’t recognise me any more?’
‘No—oh, no!’ he muttered hastily. ‘But you’re looking twice as beautiful.’
Lavina accepted the compliment and knew the reason for it. Her nails were enamelled bright red again and her golden hair was done with her usual meticulous care; but her eyebrows were now brown instead of black, she had given up using kohl on her eyelids, her lashes were suitably darkened but not heavy with mascara and she was wearing only a moderate amount of lipstick.
The change was due to Sam’s gentle insistence, that being so blessed with natural loveliness, her slavish adherence to the heavy make-up favoured by less fortunate women only detracted from her looks. She had not really believed that, but to please him she had cut it down while she was abroad; and now, Derek’s bewildered admiration at last convinced her Sam had been right.
As Hemmingway had remained in London, Derek took Sam and Lavina over the Ark and explained its workings to them. Its interior mechanism was not yet completed, but he said that the engineers hoped to launch it on the 20th.
‘The sooner the better,’ Sam remarked. ‘We’re passing now through the calm before the storm because the bulk of the people still have no idea what we may be in for. I doubt if the Government can hold up the facts much longer, though, and once the cat’s out of the bag the work-people may throw their hand in.’
After drinks in the house Oliver took them out on to the terrace. It was nearing sundown and, as the weather was fine, he was able to promise them their first view of the comet.
As it was now sufficiently near to be discernible to the human eye, diagrams of the section of the heavens in which it appeared were being printed in all the papers and, just after sunset, they had no difficulty in picking it out as a faint new star low on the horizon.
When Lavina remarked how tiny it seemed for such a terrible menace, Oliver chuckled and, promising a surprise, led them over to his telescope.
In turn they lay back in an adjustable chair like those found in dentists’ surgeries and focused the eye-piece above them according to Oliver’s instructions. The powerful lenses in the big tube seemed to bring the comet right down on top of them. It appeared as a huge, reddish mass which wobbled slightly at the edges. Oliver said that was to be accounted for by great waves of flame, hundreds of miles long, flickering out from its circumference, and that its tail was not visible owing to the fact that it was heading almost directly for the earth.
Sam had just had his turn of gazing at this terror of the heavens when Margery came out of the house and called to him.
‘Sam, you’re wanted on the telephone.’
He left the group by the telescope and went inside. When he returned a few minutes later his face was grave.
‘Hemmingway promised to ring me here if anything fresh was decided at this evening’s Cabinet Meeting,’ he said slowly. ‘It’s just been announced that the Prime Minister is to broadcast to-morrow night, and, according to Hemmingway, he intends to tell the nation the whole truth.’
9
THE LAST DAYS OF LONDON
‘In that case I think the time has come when we should release our prisoner,’ Gervaise suggested. ‘By Jove!’ Sam swung round. ‘I’d almost forgotten all about him. How’s poor old Finkie been taking his captivity?’
‘He was a little troublesome at first. He tried to batter his bedroom door down with some of the furniture; but the doors here are old and solid and I’d taken the precaution of putting extra bolts on. I had to tell him that, unless he stopped that sort of thing, I should be compelled to put him on bread and water. He’s been very little trouble since.’
‘I wonder he hasn’t gone mad from boredom,’ Lavina said. ‘Just fancy, he’s been cooped up with not a soul to talk to all these weeks while Sam and I were enjoying ourselves in France.’
Gervaise shrugged. ‘It hasn’t been quite as bad as that. I dislike the fellow so much that I really couldn’t bring myself to exchange more than the necessary civilities with him, but Roy is more broad-minded—or shall we say charitable. Since Fink-Drummond settled down, Roy has spent quite a lot of time with him.’
‘Yes. He’s not at all a bad sort, really,’ said Roy, ‘and extraordinarily interesting to talk to. Whenever the weather isn’t very good and I’m a bit bored myself, I go up and sit with him.’
‘Isn’t that a bit risky? He might have taken you by surprise one day and laid you out. Then, if he’d got the key off you, he could quite easily have escaped.’
Roy laughed. ‘No fear of that. Uncle Gervaise locked the two of us in each time I decided to spend an hour or two in his room.’
‘It’s too late for him to do any damage to the Government now, as the Prime Minister’s going to tell the country the truth tomorrow night,’ said Sam thoughtfully, ‘but I don’t think we should release him yet. We shall have quite enough on our hands during the coming week without the additional bother he’d be certain to cause us if we freed him.’
‘But are we justified in detaining him any longer now that he can’t harm the nation?’ asked Gervaise doubtfully.
‘Perhaps not,’ Sam smiled, ‘but I think we will, all the same.’
Gervaise still looked a little dubious, but at that moment Margery came out again and called them all in to supper, which Derek had been helping her to lay. It was a cold meal and they waited on themselves, but, the comet temporarily forgotten, they laughed a lot and it was late when Sam and Lavina got back to London.
On the following morning the comet was front-page news again, and large headlines informed the world that the Heads of Governments were to make a statement about it that evening to their respective peoples.
When evening came the streets of London were almost deserted. Everyone who was not actively employed upon some unescapable duty was listening-in to a radio set.
The Premier opened with a brief résumé of the new spirit of conciliation and friendship which had entered into international relations during recent weeks, and went on to say that the reason for this was that all Governments had received reports from their official astronomers that a comet, of which mention had been made in the Press during the last few days, was approaching the earth. They were unable to disguise from themselves that such a visitation might cause disturbances of a serious nature and had therefore co-operated to prevent the premature spreading of any, possibly baseless, alarm.
There were, however, certain eminent astronomers who considered that there was a far greater danger than that arising through panic on the comet’s passing close to the earth, since these gentlemen believed that it might actually come into collision with us. Governments had therefore found themselves in a somewhat diffi
cult situation.
If these eminent astronomers proved wrong in their calculations—and many of his colleagues were with him in thinking that they might well be so—any official statement based upon their findings might have caused the most appalling fears to destroy the mental balance of innumerable people; and when the comet did not hit us after all, that distress and terror, affecting perhaps millions of lives, would have been brought about without any justifiable cause.
On the other hand, by suppressing all news of the possible danger, Governments took the risk of being abused afterwards for having concealed the truth and for not having taken such precautions as might be possible to protect those for whom they were responsible.
For his own part, he had cheerfully taken that risk, and the Heads of foreign Governments had done likewise, since it was so very evident that, if the comet was about to come into collision with us, no human ingenuity could prevent its doing so; whereas, if it passed us by, an immense amount of distress would have been averted by concealing the danger.
If the worst happened, he went on, even the most eminent astronomers were far from agreeing as to what the effect would be. Some thought such a calamity might bring about the end of the world, but he considered that to be exaggerated pessimism. Others declared that it would only affect one portion of the earth’s surface and, if this were the case, arrangements had already been entered into between Governments for immediate succour to be sent to the afflicted area. Other astronomers, again, postulated that, owing to the apparent size of the comet, a good half of the earth’s surface would be bombarded for the space of an hour or so by a great hail of meteorites. In this latter case the danger could be regarded as no greater than that of a brief although severe enemy air attack, and as in no sense so dreadful as a European war.
Many of the Heads of foreign Governments had held the view that, in order to minimise apprehension to the shortest possible space of time, no statement of the full possibilities should be made until the last moment; but here they had met with opposition from the heads of their respective Churches.
Sixty Days to Live Page 9