Sixty Days to Live

by Dennis Wheatley

  ‘As there’re no Law Courts or clergymen or anything left in the world, we’ll have to go back to primitive conditions and look on Gervaise as our law-giver and priest. By his word, in the presence of the party, we must consider that he has formally divorced myself and Sam. Then he can read the marriage service over Sam and you. I hope, darling, that you’ll be very happy.’

  ‘Oh, Lavina!’ Margery suddenly burst into tears and flung her arms about her younger sister. ‘You don’t know what this means to me. You can’t. You’ve had so many people in love with you; but I’ve never known the joy of the love of a fine man before. If only we can get to Calais you’ve opened the gates of Heaven for me.’

  For a little she sobbed, and then she said: ‘But what about you, darling? What are you going to do?’

  Lavina gently disengaged herself from Margery’s embrace, picked up her package, and stood up. ‘Oh, you needn’t worry about me,’ she smiled. ‘I’ve still got a string to my bow.’

  Pulling her furs round her, she added as she left the tent: ‘I’ll send Sam to you.’

  The four men were still huddled in the tent which was shared by Sam and Hemmingway. Lavina undid the flap, poked in her head, and calling Sam out led him to the third tent, which at the moment was empty.

  ‘Sam,’ she said, as they crouched together in the confined space, ‘I’ve just left Margery. I suppose you feel the same as you did when we talked things over a month ago?’

  He nodded. ‘Yes. I hate to hurt you, but I’m still in love with her—in fact I love her more than ever.’

  Lavina smiled. ‘I felt quite sure you did because I’ve been watching both of you very carefully.’

  ‘To-day’s the 7th, isn’t it? What have you decided?’

  ‘That I love you a great deal, Sam dear.’

  As she paused she saw by the light of the candles that his face went white and that he was biting his lip, so she went on quickly: ‘Therefore, I’m going to give you up. Just give me one kiss before you go to her.’

  Sam took her in his arms and kissed her cold little face, muttering his thanks; then, feeling an utter brute, he turned and left her.

  Sam had felt all along that Lavina would release him and he knew now beyond a shadow of doubt that he loved Margery best. Their perfect understanding of each other all through the long hours they had spent together during the last terrible month had proved that to him. As he entered the tent she lifted a face radiant, transfigured, beautiful, to his, and said:

  ‘I didn’t think Lavina would say anything until we were really safe again but I’ve just realised why she insisted on telling us now.’

  Sam smiled as he knelt down and gently drew her to him. ‘Why, it’s the 7th and Lavina always keeps her promises. What other reason could she have had?’

  ‘She wouldn’t have waited till the 7th if we’d been in such desperate straits before. She wanted to give us to-night, Sam; and afterwards—well, I’m not going to mind half so much if we do have to die.’

  ‘But we’re not going to,’ he said firmly. ‘I have a hunch we’re coming through. I don’t get such hunches often but when I do I’m never wrong.’

  Ten minutes later the coffee was boiling and Margery called out to the others. The three men came out of their huddle and as they crossed the few feet of open space between the tents Gervaise exclaimed:

  ‘Hullo! The wind’s dropped. Thank God for that at least.’

  ‘It did last night,’ said Hemmingway, ‘but it didn’t stop snowing.’

  ‘Anyhow, it’ll make it easier for me to do a little job I have in mind,’ remarked Derek. ‘There’s a biggish hump about fifty yards inland. I noticed it while we were pitching the tents but I was too cold to go and examine it then. There’s just a chance that it might conceal the roof of a cottage and it would be a godsend if we could shelter there for the night. Ask Margery to keep my coffee hot for me, will you, while I go and see?’

  ‘Where’s Lavina?’ Gervaise asked as he and Hemmingway joined Margery and Sam.

  ‘She’s in your tent,’ Sam replied at once. ‘I left her there about a quarter of an hour ago.’

  They called her loudly but she did not come, so Gervaise stepped outside, crossed the yard of snow, and lifting the flap of his own tent looked into it. Lavina was not there, but by the light of a candle he saw the big flask of brandy. Scrambling inside, he picked it up, then the chocolate, the Brand’s Essence and then the map. Turning the map over, he saw writing on it that was addressed to him and, his hands trembling so that he could hardly hold it, he began to read.

  Dearest, if the rest of you can hang out for forty-eight hours I’m sure you will find Calais; and, once you’ve done that, there’ll be a really sporting chance for you all. But you’ll never stick another two days of this without fires and with so little food. My share won’t amount to very much between the five of you, but it’ll help a little; and I’ve been carrying my own emergency-rations. The beef essence, the chocolate and the brandy will keep the warmth in you for just that extra day you need.

  You’re such a clever old sweet that I expect you guessed long ago how the wind was blowing between Margery and Sam. They love each other and I want them to be happy. I’ve released Sam and told Margery that you’d divorce him and me, but that won’t be necessary now because I love you all so much that I’m going to leave you.

  You mustn’t worry about me because I’m not a bit frightened. It all seems quite natural and the reasonable thing to do. I’m the most useless member of the party and physically the weakest and, anyhow, I wouldn’t be able to stick it out for another day.

  It’s no good your rushing out and trying to follow me. I know you will, but I’m going to cheat you there. I’m going to walk straight over the cliff edge, just to prevent your doing anything silly out of your dear love for me.

  It’s agony not to see you again before I go but I daren’t risk any of you guessing what I mean to do, and I must go before the meal otherwise I’d have to eat my ration with the rest of you.

  Give my love to them all but keep my fondest love for your own dear self. Lots of luck, and remember that I’m quite happy because I’m certain that, somehow, you’ll pull through.

  Your own Princess.

  While Gervaise had been reading Lavina’s scrawl Sam and Hemmingway, their suspicions aroused by his continued silence, had entered the tent behind him. One glance at the things Lavina had left, and another at Gervaise’s stricken face, was enough to tell them what had happened.

  Without a word the three men turned and went out into the snow. Outside the circle of the tiny encampment the broad tracks made by Lavina’s snow-shoes showed plainly leading towards the cliff. Had she been gone one minute, two minutes, or ten, was the thought that leapt into all their minds. It would take her a good five minutes to cover the sixty yards of snow to the precipice. If she had been gone less than that time they still might save her.

  Shouting her name at the tops of their voices, all three of them dashed forward along her tracks, but there came no answer to their shouting and at the cliff edge the tracks ceased.

  A gap in the line of snow which fringed the precipice showed where Lavina had gone over. They had no means of descending and as they halted, staring blindly out into the still falling snow, they knew that their brave, self-willed little companion, who had brought them so much joy by her gaiety and beauty, must now lie dead upon the ice-pack forty feet below.

  30

  ONE MUST DIE

  Before leaving Gervaise’s tent Lavina had taken a good swig at the flask of brandy to give herself strength for what she meant to do, but she had no intention of throwing herself over the precipice. She had said that she meant to in her letter because she knew that that was the only possible way to prevent her friends from following her and, once having abandoned their camp, all dying of exposure that night.

  Moreover, ever since she had been a little girl she had been in love with her own body. It was such a perfect thing that
she would gaze at it in her long mirror for hours before going to bed at night; and one of her favourite pastimes as a girl had been to dance naked before that mirror for her own amusement. If she ever bruised herself she felt the pain far less than the distress of having temporarily marred that beautiful thing which was herself. Her skin was so fine and her blood so healthy that she rarely suffered from a spot on the face, but if one ever appeared it caused her greater agony of mind than a gnawing toothache, and she would cheerfully have worked all through her school holidays if by so doing she could have escaped such childhood ailments as chickenpox and measles. Therefore, nothing could ever have induced her wilfully to smash this thing that she had tended for so long and with such loving care.

  To fool the others she had walked straight to the cliff edge, pushed a great lump of snow over, taken her snow-shoes off and, jumping as far as she could from the place where her track ended, set off along the cliff-top in her fur-lined boots, only putting the snow-shoes on again when she had covered about fifty yards. In the uncertain light it was extremely unlikely that any of the others would notice the break in the snow at the place to which she had jumped; and from there on she had taken the longest strides that she could manage, so she was quite confident that none of her friends would find out what she had done.

  By the time she had covered a quarter of a mile the effect of her rest and the brandy had worn off. She was very tired again and began to stumble as she cast about for a sheltered place in which she could lie down. Two humps of snow with a shallow valley between them provided a likely-looking spot, so scooping up the snow with her gloved hands she blocked the far end of the little valley with a wall about two feet high. Then, making a pillow of snow, she sank down in the valley-bottom.

  She knew, as does every British schoolchild, the epic story of that very gallant gentleman, Captain Oates, who walked out into a blizzard in the Antarctic, sacrificing himself in order that his fellow-explorers might have a better chance of surviving from being able to use his share of the remaining food; and perhaps that courageous act had subconsciously inspired her, but she herself did not feel any sense of heroism.

  Although she was very young to die she had had a good life; beauty, success, many friends, even a happy marriage, before the comet had come to wreck everything. But now there seemed very little left to live for. Even if the others succeeded in reaching Calais there was the incredible hardship of the journey south still to be faced. The intense cold would wrinkle her beautiful face, frost-bite might strike at her any day. Her delicate shoulders were already assuming a permanent stoop from slogging forward through the snow. The journey would age her prematurely and she would be only a caricature of her former self by the time they had covered the thousand miles south to a warmer climate.

  She had told the truth when she had written that she was not afraid. She had feared any risk in which she might be maimed all her life, but not death itself; and death would come gently to her as her limbs gradually numbed and she fell asleep in the snow. The cold was creeping up her limbs and she felt drowsy already as she surrendered to it now and thought fondly of her friends.

  Gervaise would be heartbroken; poor Sam most terribly upset. Margery would persuade herself and the others that she felt the loss of her sister, but deep down she would not really be sorry because that loss would prevent any possibility of Sam’s starting to hanker after his first wife again. Derek would be like a wounded animal nursing his grief in silence.

  Dear Derek; what a good and faithful friend he had been. And he was not so stupid that he could not also see how things had been going between Sam and Margery; yet he had played the game to the last and had never traded on his knowledge, as most men in his situation would have done, to try and draw her further from her husband.

  And Hemmingway. Even in the blizzard he would hold his head high to-morrow, because he would be so proud. He loved her utterly. She knew that now; she had known it all along. He had loved her from the very moment he had first seen her, but how strong he had been in concealing it while they were in the Ark; and he had kept up that iron control over himself even when she had deliberately told him that she and Sam were on the point of parting, and given him a chance to come out into the open, that afternoon when they had sat together in the freezing downstairs room of the house at Sittingbourne.

  She loved him, too, with all her body, with all her mind, with all her spirit. If only she had been a little stronger, strong enough to go on for another few days, everything would have come right. Directly he had known that she was free he would have claimed her. But that would only have made things worse for both of them when she died from exhaustion while they were still searching for Calais. The way that she had chosen was better, and it gave all her friends a good chance. The hardest thing of all had been for her to leave the camp without telling him that she loved him; but then, of course, he knew it. They had both known that they loved each other from the very beginning. She would have bartered her glorious golden hair for one half hour in which he could take her in his arms again. Her whole body ached for him. Then, as she lay thinking of him he came to her out of the blinding snowstorm.

  Kneeling down beside her, he peered close into her face, and seeing that her eyes were open, smiled as he said simply: ‘So here you are. I knew I’d find you.’

  ‘How did you guess that I hadn’t gone over the cliff?’ she asked in a low voice.

  ‘No one with a spirit such as yours could ever commit suicide. Waiting for death to take one in a case like this is quite different. I had to wait for a bit until I could slip away from the others before I could follow you, but I soon found the tracks of your feet in the snow.’

  ‘I’m not going back,’ she announced quietly, ‘and I shall only run away again during the night if you try to carry me.’

  ‘I know,’ he said.

  ‘Then why did you come?’ she smiled, knowing the answer to her question even before she asked it.

  ‘Because I prefer to die with you than live without you.’

  ‘Dear Hemmingway.’

  ‘My sweet Lavina. We’ve had a hard deal, haven’t we? But our troubles are over now. You’ve given Sam his freedom, as I knew you would, and it’s me you love, not Derek. There’s nothing to separate us any longer and we’ll spend the last hours of our lives together.’

  She drew his head down to hers and kissed him, first gently then fiercely, crushing her mouth against his. As she released him she sighed. ‘Yes, it’s you I love. And you love me. How blessed we are in that we shall have such a happy death. But now you’ve come I don’t want to die just yet.’

  Hemmingway had brought with him his fur sleeping-bag. Stretching it out on the ground he laid her on it and chafed her hands and feet; then the two of them crawled into it and lay tightly embraced. Soon she was quite warm again. It was not until a quarter of an hour later that they even noticed in their sheltered little valley that the snow had ceased falling.

  ‘Oh, thank God!’ Lavina exclaimed. ‘The blizzard’s over at last. Now it’s quite certain the others will find Calais to-morrow.’

  ‘Yes. And they can eat a good meal now,’ Hemmingway smiled. ‘With only three of them left they can afford to have a proper breakfast.’

  ‘Three of them?’

  ‘Yes, I was just going to tell you. About the time you left the camp Derek left too. He said he was going to explore a hummock of snow that might conceal a cottage; but he didn’t take his furs, and he didn’t come back. After we had failed to find you we went out to look for him, but he’d abandoned his snow-shoes about thirty yards from the camp and his footprints were covered with fresh snow. When we got back we found he’d left a note. It simply said “This is my last will and testament. I leave my share of the remaining food to Lavina and a wealth of good wishes to you all.”’

  ‘Dear, splendid Derek. How like him. But how I wish that he could have the happy end that ours will be. Without furs he’ll die very quickly; he may be dead by now.’ Lav
ina’s voice quavered but she steadied it and asked after a moment: ‘How long d’you think we’ve got, darling?’

  ‘Until to-morrow, I should think. We may not wake up after we go to sleep to-night, but if we do wake we’ll remain lying here; and once we start to get numb from inaction the end will come quite peacefully.’

  They talked far into the night in the great silence of the snow that lay all about them, while the stars twinkled overhead in a cold, frosty sky. They no longer felt any tiredness, and the dawn was near breaking when they kissed for the last time and sank into a peaceful slumber.

  It was mid-morning when they woke. The warmth from each other’s bodies, their fur clothes and the fur sleeping-bag had prevented them from freezing, and although they felt a little empty from having had such short rations the day before, they were overjoyed to know that they would have another day together. The sun was shining so they knew that the odds were all in favour of the others.

  ‘We can change our minds if you wish, my sweet,’ said Hemmingway. ‘It’ll be hard going on empty tummies but now the blizzard’s over we might find the town.’

  She shook her head. ‘No, darling, I’m too weak. I couldn’t manage another mile and when the others get to Calais they’ll only have their hands and the tent pegs to dig with. The houses must be so deeply buried that they won’t be able to break into one until to-morrow; and then they may not find food until they’ve tried several.’

  As Hemmingway nodded she went on: ‘It may be two or three days yet before they find more than a few odd tins to keep them going, and it wouldn’t be fair to jeopardise the lives of the others, even if we could rejoin them, now.’

  ‘I know,’ he smiled. ‘That’s just how I feel.’

  For a long time they lay curled up in their bag talking softly and caressing each other. Gradually they grew colder and their lower limbs began to get numb. Time drifted on, and unnoticed by them the sun passed the meridian. They became drowsy and Lavina was half-asleep when, as in a dream, a tiny, insistent sound caught her ear, breaking the great silence. Suddenly starting up, wide awake, she wrenched herself out of Hemmingway’s arms.