Sixty Days to Live

by Dennis Wheatley

  The night passed uneventfully, but in the morning no land was to be seen and it was impossible to take an observation of the sun as the sky was still overcast with thick layers of dull, grey clouds. The compass showed them to be drifting west. It was raining gently and persistently as though it never meant to stop and a sudden change in the weather had made the temperature fall to such a marked extent that it seemed as if they had passed straight from June to October; but Sam coped with the heating plant, which had been thrown out of action, and once he had got it going the temperature in the Ark was soon adjusted.

  Derek and Hemmingway both wanted to get up but, having taken charge of them, Lavina insisted that it would be better for them to spend the day in bed as, in any case, there was nothing for them to do and nowhere to go.

  With her sister she was less merciful. Margery had passed a miserable night, but Sam’s ankle was now swollen and Lavina decreed that he must keep it up; as there was no one else who could do the cooking, Margery would have to bestir herself, for an hour or two at all events, to attend to it. With the air of a martyr Margery obeyed the commands of her imperious younger sister while Lavina, who considered that she had done everything that was necessary, employed herself in amusing Hemmingway and Derek.

  The two of them had had a brief slanging match after Hemmingway had come to the previous evening, following which they had agreed to forget the borrowed car; but a definite animosity still lingered and Lavina’s presence was not calculated to have a soothing effect.

  Derek had known her for so long that they had many subjects in common to talk about of which Hemmingway knew nothing. She treated Derek with the familiarity of a brother and now called him ‘darling’ or ‘my sweet’ in the same way that she had been accustomed to throw casual endearments about among her friends in the film world. Hemmingway kept on telling himself that he had not a shadow of right to resent their camaraderie but he did resent it nevertheless.

  On the other hand, Derek had little but his good looks and self-confident manner with which to attract Lavina’s attention, whereas Hemmingway had not only an infinitely finer brain but a much quicker tongue, so he was able to offer much better entertainment.

  Each would have denied it hotly if anybody had accused him of wishing to arouse Lavina’s interest in himself, as they were both only too conscious that being married to Sam placed her out of bounds, but each was wishing secretly that he had her to himself, and cursing the presence of the other.

  Lavina was perfectly conscious of the way they felt and, without the least malice, was thoroughly enjoying the situation. As Derek had very little to talk about outside the normal interests of a gentleman-farmer she had no desire at all for a tête-à-tête with him but while a heart-to-heart with Hemmingway would have intrigued her a lot she felt that would be too dangerous, in view of the experience through which they had been together.

  After cooking lunch Margery retired to bed again, bemoaning the misery which the constant rocking of the sphere caused her. As there was nothing whatever for them to do Gervaise and Oliver decided to take a nap in the men’s cabin where the two invalids were also dozing in their bunks. In consequence Sam, who had volunteered to keep a look-out although there was nothing to be seen on the vast expanse of waters which encompassed them, at last got Lavina to himself.

  As the wireless was out of action she had just put a selection of records on the gramophone when Sam called her over to him. He was sitting in one arm-chair with his injured foot resting on another and, switching off the gramophone, she sat down in his lap. He petted her a little and then said quietly:

  ‘My sweet, I’ve been wanting to have a chat with you.’

  ‘Well, now’s your chance,’ she smiled down at him.

  ‘It’s about Margery,’ he hesitated. ‘You’re not being very kind to her, are you?’

  ‘My dear, I never give her a thought. She’s just one of those people one doesn’t think about. I gave up trying long ago but I certainly haven’t been unkind to her.’

  ‘Don’t you call it unkind to drag anybody who’s feeling ill out of bed to cook lunch?’

  ‘Oh, that!’ Lavina lit a cigarette and, tilting her aristocratic profile in the gesture that Sam had so often admired, puffed out the smoke. ‘Well, somebody had to cook lunch and you’re the only one among us who can cook except Margery. I ought not to have let you cook dinner for us last night with a bad ankle like this and you must keep it up.’

  ‘I know, my dear, but surely you could have knocked up some sort of a meal for us yourself instead of idling away the whole morning with Hemmingway and Derek? There’s plenty of cold stuff among the stores; it only meant opening a few tins.’

  ‘Really, Sam, I think you’re being rather stupid. Margery’s quite all right; only a little sea-sick, that’s all. Why should you want me to treat her like a pampered baby?’

  ‘She’s a woman like yourself and entitled to consideration. Think of the fuss there’d be if anybody expected you to do a job of work when you were ill.’

  ‘I have, often. Naturally, I like people to fetch and carry for me. Why shouldn’t they? They enjoy it. But many’s the time I’ve walked on to a film set feeling like death and gone right through till the small hours of the morning in order not to hold up the rest of the cast.’

  ‘Then I take off my hat to you, darling. But, all the same, I think you’ve got to take a different view of things from now on. Last week you were Lady Curry, a famous beauty with a millionaire husband, lots of servants and other people, either paid or willing, to run your errands in the sort of life we all knew. Now you’re just my darling wife, Lavina, but that’s the only thing that hasn’t changed.’

  ‘Like hell it is!’ broke in Lavina, ‘and how does that affect…’ but, having got into his stride, Sam cut her short and went on:

  ‘What’s going to become of us, God knows. But we’ve plenty of stores so if we’re not wrecked in a storm we ought to be able to hang out until we land up somewhere. Whether we do or don’t, everything’s going to be different from now on. You’ve got to forget this Princess stuff, become a real woman, and do your share of the work. As you can’t cook, the sooner you learn the better. I think you should start in at once as scullery-maid to Margery and when you’ve got the hang of it a bit you can do the job turn and turn about.’

  Lavina removed herself from Sam’s lap, stood up, yawned, and stretched gracefully. For the thousandth time he admired the perfect lines of her slim little figure which showed to admirable advantage in the silk shirt and old bell-bottomed trousers she was wearing that day.

  Still with her back to him she said quietly: ‘You know, Sam, I’ve never found you a bore before but this afternoon I don’t find you the least amusing. I’m going to read in my bunk,’ and without a glance in his direction she left him sitting there.

  That evening she provided them with a cold supper for which Derek and Hemmingway, both now more or less recovered, got up. When the meal was finished she said suddenly:

  ‘I’ve been thinking that we ought to divide up the work of the ship. Gervaise, as Captain, issues the stores and is a father to us all; Oliver’s our navigator and looks after the instruments and things; Derek’s the engineer, so he’ll see to the electric light, the heating plant, and the motors if we have any chance to use them; Margery, quite obviously, was cut out for cook. That leaves Sam, Hemmingway and myself, doesn’t it?’

  They nodded agreement and she went on:

  ‘Well, I’m easy. Somebody will have to mother you and I’m not at all bad with my needle; so if you loose a button or anything you’ll know where to come. Hemmingway can lay the table and do mess-waiter and, as Sam loves pottering about in kitchens, he’d better be scullery-man and help Margery with the washing-up. That’s fair division of labour, isn’t it?’

  ‘Fine,’ Derek and Hemmingway agreed simultaneously while Gervaise, Oliver and Margery smiled their assent. In the face of such a clear majority Sam could do nothing. His clever little d
evil of a wife had out-manœuvred him completely. She would sew their buttons on. Yes, when they lost them—which would be about once a month—and in the meantime she would lie about smoking and reading while the rest of them did all the work.

  He saw her smiling at him beneath lowered lids and twitched his own mouth humorously in reply. He knew that, even if she sat about doing nothing day after day, she would provide them with splendid entertainment and keep their spirits up with constant laughter. That was her natural contribution; to be supremely decorative and delightfully amusing. He readily forgave her the trick she had played him, realising that he had been a fool ever to suggest that she should use those lovely hands of hers except to stroke his own face.

  Again next day the low grey clouds covered the sky as far as they could see in every direction, bearing out any chance of taking the altitude of the sun. To everybody’s surprise Lavina appeared shortly after breakfast in an extremely abbreviated swim-suit with the intention, now the waters were calm and only lapping gently round the Ark, of bathing from its circular platform.

  The instant Derek saw her he exclaimed: ‘By Jove! What a grand idea. I’ll be with you in ten secs.’

  But by that time Lavina was back again inside the centrally-heated sphere. She loathed the cold and one sniff through her delicately-arched nose at the chill air outside had been quite sufficient to make her abandon all idea of having a swim. Nevertheless she did not change into anything else but lay about all day displaying her admirable limbs.

  Hemmingway could hardly keep his eyes off her although he did his level best to expunge from his agitated brain the memories which crowded into it; and Derek fidgeted nervously to such an extent that Gervaise inquired what was the matter with him. He then got down Mr. Sponge’s Sporting Tour and, turning his back on Lavina, determinedly buried his nose in it.

  After lunch there was trouble about the cigarettes. They had a fair supply on board but, with a view to making them last as long as possible, it had been agreed the previous night that they should each be issued with a packet of 20 Virginians per day, except Oliver who smoked only his own long cheroots. In addition, they were to allow themselves one Turkish cigarette each after lunch and dinner; for which purpose a box was to be kept in the drawer with the silver for passing round the table at the end of every meal.

  As the first box of a hundred had been opened the previous night at dinner only five cigarettes should have been missing from it for Margery, being ill, had not had one; but a whole additional row was gone.

  On opening the box Gervaise noticed the shortage at once and, looking round the table, said quietly:

  ‘I’m afraid somebody’s been cheating.’

  ‘I have, darling,’ Lavina confessed at once. ‘Twenty cigarettes a day isn’t half my usual ration. As I ran out last night, I raided the box before I went to bed.’

  ‘Well, you mustn’t do that sort of thing, dearest; it’s not fair to the rest of us.’

  ‘Now, don’t get excited,’ she said quickly. ‘I only took a couple and I’m not having one after lunch or dinner to-day, to make things even.’

  ‘But, my dear, there’s a whole row missing,’ he protested.

  She shrugged. ‘Well then, somebody else has been at the box besides myself. If I’d taken more than two I should say so.’

  Gervaise knew that in many ways Lavina might be spoilt and selfish but quite definitely she was not a liar. She had never told him a deliberate untruth in her life and he would have staked his beloved home, had he still possessed it, on her veracity. He glanced round inquiringly at the others.

  They sat there with blank faces and, after a moment, each in turn denied having had any hand in the matter, so the episode was closed. But it left an uncomfortable feeling and, as Lavina was such an inveterate smoker, those who did not know her as well as her father remained under the impression that she had taken a greater number of the cigarettes than she would admit.

  She knew what they were thinking but nothing would have induced her to protest her innocence further; and she was extremely intrigued at the thought that the unusual conditions had already produced a sneak-thief and liar among them. Who it was she had no idea but, with the leagues of water on every side of them and no sign of land, she felt that time would show.

  22

  ADRIFT

  The whole of that second day they spent nursing their hurts and recovering from their bouts of sickness. There were many things still to be done to put the Ark ship-shape but they felt too fagged out to give their attention to it and sat about dozing or speculating on what sort of fate the future might hold for them.

  On the third morning after the flood it was still cloudy, but as the weather was calm all of them except Sam and Oliver put on their warmest clothes and went outside to get some exercise by walking round the platform. Although they had little hope of seeing a ship or raft with other survivors, they had kept a fruitless watch all through the previous days on the chance that they might sight a piece of high land which was still above the waters. Now as they made the first circuit of the sphere, they strained their eyes once again to peer into the distance by the pale, wintry, morning light, but in every direction the greenish-grey ocean stretched away unbroken to the horizon.

  It was a depressing spectacle for, apart from their own utter loneliness, they saw many evidences of the terrible fate which had stricken Britain. As the Ark drifted gently westward on the current the strangest collection of flotsam and jetsam bobbed along beside it, amongst which were great trees, chicken coops, odd pieces of furniture and dead cattle, poultry and human beings. Once they saw a structure which they thought might be another ark with living people in it, but as it drifted closer it proved to be only a wooden barn. At another time they saw an overturned boat and a little later the wreckage of an aeroplane.

  After a couple of dozen turns round the sphere the exercisers went inside again except Derek, who declared that he must keep fit somehow and, weather permitting, intended to do at least 500 turns a day; although he found later that he could not yet manage that number because he was still limping from his injured shin and it began to pain him badly.

  Under Gervaise’s directions they set about giving the contents of the Ark a thorough overhaul, a job they had not previously felt up to, and they spent several hours rearranging cargo that had shifted, fixing cords along the book-shelves and making many other arrangements to ensure that things should not be thrown about quite so readily if the sphere were to receive another buffeting.

  It was as well that they had done so as, on the fourth day, a wind got up and from a gentle rocking the motion of the Ark increased to a heavy roll. Margery was ill again and Sam, too, was overcome by sea-sickness. By midday they could not see more than fifty yards from the port-holes as huge waves lashed the Ark, tossing it to and fro while blinding sheets of spray hissed over it. The constant rolling proved a frightful strain upon their nerves, as they could settle to nothing in any comfort but had to cling on to fixtures to prevent themselves from being thrown about.

  Hemmingway had been feeling ill all day and lost what little lunch he had eaten. Lavina followed suit but she refused to go to her bunk and made those of the party who were still well enough play ‘Consequences’ with her.

  Margery lay groaning in her cabin; Sam could not trust himself to stand for long on the heaving floor owing to his ankle, which although better was still weak, and none of the others felt like making tea; so Gervaise went below to get a bottle of brandy from their small cellar. When his grey head appeared above the hatch again and he staggered forward to a chair, Lavina noticed that his expression was unusually grave.

  Looking round at them he said sternly: ‘I should be glad if you would remember that when you elected me Captain of the Ark I stipulated that I should have control of all stores. One of you has had a bottle of brandy out of the wine locker without my authority.’

  Everyone denied having taken the bottle and Sam suggested that Gervaise might have
miscounted.

  He assured Sam that he had not. But Hemmingway went below with him to check the cellar and pointed out that although, allowing for the bottle he had just brought up, there were now only ten out of the original dozen instead of eleven as there should have been, owing to the arrangement of the bins it was quite possible that there had only been eleven bottles there in the first place; and that one might have been found broken in the case when the whole consignment of wines and spirits had been unpacked on arrival from Justerini and Brooks’ London cellars. As there was no other explanation Gervaise had to agree that it might have been so but, all the same, he felt quite certain that there had been twelve bottles of brandy there when he had taken a look round the cellar on the day before the comet had struck the earth.

  It was pointless to argue further, so the matter was dropped. Their cellar space being limited, Hemmingway had ordered only of the best, and the mellow, sixty-year-old brandy warmed their stomachs; but the waves continued to thud upon the Ark, making the whole sphere shudder. Restless, uneasy and shaken, they made a scratch evening meal of biscuits and then as there seemed no object in remaining up they lurched to their cabins; but the storm continued throughout the night so they spent miserable hours pitching and tossing in their bunks, able to snatch only brief periods of troubled sleep at intervals.