The Man You Meet in Heaven: An absolutely feel-good romantic comedy

by Debbie Viggiano

  * * *

  Sit yourself

  Upon my back

  Thread fingers through my mane

  And hold on tight

  As I rise right up

  And gallop across the terrain

  We’ll jump the trees

  The moon

  The stars

  We’ll canter in beams of light

  And then we’ll bid a fond farewell

  Until we meet in dreams at night

  * * *

  For some reason my eyes inexplicably filled with tears as the unicorn’s message translated in my brain and went on to blossom within my heart. Without any fear or trepidation, I walked towards this majestic creature and, hitching up my hemline, straddled the velvety back. I didn’t care if this was a dream, whether the Halfway Lounge really existed, or whether I was having some weird out-of-body crazy experience. All that mattered was the here and the now. Ahead of me, Josh was astride his own mount and he turned to give me an enquiring look, one that asked if I was okay with this? I nodded, and he responded with a smile that lit up his face and, with it, my entire being. I was with the man I loved and sitting on a unicorn. What more could a girl want?

  Thirty-Seven

  Thirty seconds later, it transpired that one thing this girl definitely wanted – nay, needed – was the riding ability of a Grand National jockey and the body of Lester Piggott. As we set off at a brisk canter, I bounced around like a sack of potatoes. I’d rather hoped the floaty dress would attractively stream out making me look like one of those elegant actresses in a commercial, cantering her steed across a barren moor. Instead the dress was bunched up around my knickers and the only thing streaming was my eyeballs. No wonder jockeys wore goggles. I clung on grimly to the mane, concentrating on Josh ahead, trying to emulate his effortless riding style.

  Come on, Hattie, you can do better than that, he laughed.

  I’ll have you know that the last steed I rode was a donkey on Margate beach.

  And there was me thinking you could ride like Zara Phillips.

  Funny, I gasped, daring to release one hand from the unicorn’s mane to brush some hair out of my eyes.

  What’s happened to your powers of manifestation?

  Oh! How stupid of me. I’d been so caught up with this whole crazy experience that I’d completely forgotten that, right now, I wasn’t a human with limitations, but instead some sort of cosmic being with super powers. Suddenly I was riding as if born in the saddle and everything was flowing beautifully… the unicorn’s mane, my hair and the hemline of my skirts were all rippling perfectly. We didn’t jump the trees, moon or stars, but we did canter out of the forest, sail effortlessly over a fallen tree trunk, straight onto a golden beach that I immediately recognised. Margate. There had been many a perfect family moment spent on these sands as a child. I chuckled inwardly. There were no donkeys to be seen anywhere today, of course.

  I let my feet stretch down, noticing that my strappy sandals had disappeared, and my legs were bare. I’d subconsciously manifested a change of clothing and was now wearing a bikini top and shorts. Better. Much better.

  ‘I agree,’ said Josh, reverting to spoken language.

  I looked across at him, and nearly swallowed my tonsils. He was trotting along beside me, wearing the same glowing white swim shorts he’d worn when we’d been at the beach. His torso looked even more tanned than previously, but just as muscular as the last time we’d stripped off at the water’s edge. I found myself discreetly adding a bit more tone and definition to my own abdomen. After all, no one wants a muffin top spoiling the look of their shorts.

  We bounced along companionably, letting the cool seawater play over our mounts’ legs, splashing up and eventually soaking us, so much so that we didn’t protest when the unicorns waded in a little deeper, then deeper still, until they were swimming with heads extended, horns pointing up like sailboat masts. Their long manes and tails flowed out on the waves like wet seaweed.

  ‘Happy?’ asked Josh, as the warm waters washed over us.

  ‘Very,’ I replied, smiling contentedly. ‘This place was a firm family favourite when I was a child. I can remember coming with my mum and dad and bringing a school friend along. We had a bit of a falling out over who’d caught the biggest crab in the rock pools. Such big stuff when little, yet little stuff now I’m looking back as an adult.’ I sighed. ‘Funny how one’s perspective changes as we move through the years of life. Now, when I think back on days like that one, it’s with nothing but a warm glow. There were so many happy moments enjoying picnics on the sand, and my mother’s laughter when a bold seagull once stole my dad’s sandwich.’

  ‘I’m glad you’re remembering happy stuff, Hattie,’ said Josh. ‘You’ve had some heavy experiences since your arrival here. It’s good to remind yourself that there has been much joy in your life, too.’

  ‘Yes,’ I nodded, my voice as soft as the gently lapping water all around us.

  Neither of us spoke for a couple of minutes, just enjoying the moment, the here and now of peace and mental relaxation. Josh was the first to break the silence.

  ‘Do you think you’re ready for the next bit of reviewing?’

  The past was waiting, and my shoulders drooped.

  ‘You know,’ I said carefully, aware that I was attempting to wriggle out of it, ‘someone once told me that you can’t get on with the next chapter of your life if you keep re-reading the last.’

  ‘Point taken,’ said Josh, ‘except in your case, Hattie, you weren’t getting on with the next chapter anyway. Let me quote the big man up there’ – he nodded skywards – ‘“the best can’t find you, until you put the past behind you”.’

  ‘But I had put the past behind me,’ I said obstinately. ‘It was all neatly tucked away in its various boxes, lids tightly on.’

  ‘But you weren’t reconciled with the past. And that is what needs addressing.’

  I shrugged. Something told me I wasn’t going to get out of this.

  ‘A little while ago, you nosily asked whether I was in love with someone,’ Josh said.

  I inhaled sharply. ‘Yes. I did. And you mentioned in a roundabout way that you were in love but declined telling me who she was.’

  ‘If you go back in order to find your way forward, you’ll also discover who I’m in love with.’

  My heart rate bounced unpleasantly. ‘Is it someone I know?’ I croaked, aghast at what might be revealed on this journey of self-discovery and forgiveness. That was all I needed. Coming across Josh somewhere in my murky past, shacked up with some gorgeous creature no doubt, perhaps not so readily recognisable because, in real life, he wasn’t as tall, tanned, gorgeous or hot as he was in this altered dimension.

  ‘You haven’t known me previously,’ he assured me, reading my thoughts.

  I flushed, hoping that he hadn’t read the bit about not looking quite so hot.

  ‘Can’t you just tell me who your lady love is?’ I asked.

  ‘I’m not allowed to,’ he replied.

  ‘I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,’ I grinned.

  He laughed. ‘It’s something you have to work out for yourself.’

  I sighed, resigning myself to another review and whatever it might throw up. As if sensing both my mood and decision, the unicorns changed direction, heading back to the mainland. On impulse, I leant forward and threw my arms around my unicorn’s neck, rubbing my hands up and down the wet fur.

  Thank you for your love, I whispered.

  Almost immediately came a musical chord of reply.

  Om shanti shanti shanti.

  Somehow, I knew what the message was. Peace. I smiled and tipped my head up to the sky, closing my eyes and letting the lemon light tickle my eyelids. But when I next opened them, I was once again back in my old bedroom at Mum and Dad’s, and the only sign of any unicorns were the static images on my childhood quilt. And I knew that, downstairs, Nick was waiting to speak to me.

  Thirty-Eight

 
As I faced Nick across the threshold of my parents’ house, his face registered surprise at the vision before him – a washed-out, red-eyed woman with her hair standing on end. Last time he’d seen me I’d been glammed up, and languorously sprawled across the sheets of his bed.

  ‘Why are you here?’ I asked, my voice hoarse.

  ‘To see you, of course,’ he said, his astonished expression switching to one of concern. ‘Come here.’ He opened his arms, and I flew straight into them.

  ‘You didn’t need to come by,’ I said, snorting unattractively and desperately hoping I didn’t get snot over his immaculate suit.

  ‘I wanted to make sure you were okay,’ he whispered into my ear. ‘I wasn’t sure if—’

  ‘What?’

  He hesitated. ‘This sounds a bit lame now… somewhat stupid… but I wasn’t sure if you regretted our time together and,’ he shrugged, ‘perhaps stayed away from the office because… ’ He trailed off, his voice suddenly sounding uncertain.

  ‘Oh my goodness, did you think that I was avoiding you? Was embarrassed, or something, and made up some excuse to skive off?’

  He held me tight and stroked my hair. ‘Something like that,’ he murmured. ‘I can see from the state of you, however, that this wasn’t the case at all.’

  A little part of me danced with joy. The gorgeous Nicholas Green had diverted his way home from the office because he’d spent his working day fretting that the dalliance with his secretary might have been regretted on her part. Surely that meant he cared a lot about me? I was secretly thrilled.

  ‘Would you have missed me if I’d never come back?’ I whispered.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’ve never had a secretary as efficient as you.’

  At the time I’d thought Nick was bantering, but it was only now, in this review, that I realised he might not have been completely joking. What was that expression? Ah, yes. Many a true word said in jest. But the young Hattie, standing in the hallway in her new lover’s arms, chose to construe his words as those of endearment.

  ‘I’m so sorry for your loss, Hattie.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I mumbled.

  ‘Was it a very close family member who died?’ he asked gently.

  I froze. I’d never mentioned Martin in the workplace. I didn’t have that closeness with the other secretaries who moaned about their husbands, kids, or their thickening waistlines, and not necessarily in that order. I’d deliberately failed to mention the lack of a significant other to Nick because, well, my relationship with Martin had been slowly dwindling anyway – and certainly from the moment I’d clapped eyes on my new boss. Now didn’t seem the time to tell him the finer details of who had passed away.

  ‘It was a long-term friend of the family,’ I quickly explained, ‘but it was the suddenness more than anything. It wasn’t expected and came as a tremendous shock.’

  He nodded. ‘Heart attack?’

  ‘Well—’

  ‘Was it instant?’

  ‘Apparently so.’ That much was true from what we’d been told.

  ‘In some respects it’s the best way to go. Rushing around one minute, maybe on the commute to work, then a sudden cardiac arrest out of the blue so that’ – he clicked his fingers – ‘you’re suddenly saying hello to the angels. Literally here one minute, then gone the next.’

  ‘Y-Yes,’ I stuttered, not at all comfortable with this line of conversation. I didn’t want to talk about Martin, his demise, or anything that reminded me of him. This particular Monday had seen me in an altered state. There had been too many shocks in too short a space of time, and my emotions were badly out of kilter.

  ‘Take as long as you like off work,’ said Nick, his expression now one of kindness.

  ‘I’ll be back tomorrow,’ I replied.

  ‘Is that a good idea?’ Nick protested. ‘I don’t want you weeping over your keyboard, diluting the coffee with your tears, and greeting clients looking like a road accident.’

  I flinched at Nick’s choice of these last two words.

  ‘Believe me, that won’t be the case,’ I said firmly. ‘I’ll be absolutely fine. I just want to carry on as normal and get on with my life, and that means I’ll be behind my desk at Shepherd, Green & Parsons bright and early in the morning.’

  ‘Well as long as you’re sure,’ he said.

  ‘Never more so.’

  ‘Good.’

  For a moment we just stared at each other, and then he put his finger under my chin and tipped my head up, before lowering his mouth gently to mine. I welcomed the kiss and melted against him, unaware of my parents watching from the shadows above.

  Thirty-Nine

  How much my parents heard or saw from the landing, I wasn’t sure. All I know is that the moment Nick left, they came down the stairs looking grim. Despite my mother’s earlier assurance that my love life was my business, I couldn’t help noticing that her mouth was puckered like a cat’s bum, and my father’s set in a line so straight it could have been used as a ruler. They went through to the kitchen where Mum immediately lit up a cigarette, sucking hard on the nicotine stick and adding to the fretwork of lines around her mouth. But whatever their private thoughts were on seeing their daughter kissing another man hours after her boyfriend had been killed, they tactfully didn’t voice them. I was grateful for that.

  I went back to work the following day, desperate to embrace a sense of normality. Outwardly I was calm. Inwardly, I was in freefall. There was a complete denial about what Martin had done prior to his shocking death. I was coping – if you could call it that – by resolving to never think about Martin. If any thoughts about him encroached, I’d immediately push them away. If Mum or Dad mentioned his name, my distancing technique was such that his name translated as someone I only vaguely knew.

  The week passed in a blur, and I had zero recall about what Martin had done. I was going through the motions. Nick, knowing that I needed distracting, made sure I was kept busier than ever. On the Friday night he wished me a pleasant weekend and it was only then that I snapped out of auto-pilot. I was still seated at my desk, pounding away at my keyboard, before I realised everyone was putting their coats on.

  ‘Is it Friday?’ I asked, genuinely astonished at where the week had gone.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, looking amused at my dumbfounded expression. ‘What are you up to this weekend, Hattie?’ he asked gently.

  ‘Oh,’ I gulped, ‘well, I’m not too sure.’ Now didn’t seem the moment to say that I had keenly hoped I’d be spending some of it with him. I was desperate to move on and make fresh memories. Happy memories. I’d always thought Nick was gorgeous, but his attractiveness had also increased because I now saw him as the passport to move further away from what had happened. But he wasn’t making any overtures to share his time off with me. He’d kept his emotional distance throughout the week, but I’d put that down to him wanting to give me space after—

  My mind immediately veered away from thinking anything else.

  ‘A-And you?’ I asked brightly, determined not to sound needy or look disappointed at my exclusion from whatever his plans were. I had a wobbly moment of wondering if Erin from Accounts had made a reappearance in his life and declared that she no longer wanted a reunion with her cuckolded husband, and that the only get-togethers she wanted were with Nicholas Green in a horizontal position.

  ‘I’m seeing my daughters,’ he said. ‘My ex-wife grants me occasional access if I’ve been a good boy and jumped through all her hoops. This is one such weekend.’

  ‘Ah, right.’ Yes, of course, he had Lucinda and Charlotte from his marriage to the first Mrs Green.

  ‘Of course the real reason the girls will be staying with me is because Amanda has a new boyfriend and wants some free time to invest in her budding romance. Her last relationship didn’t end well. She was livid when Lucinda had a nightmare and burst in on her and Keith in the middle of the night.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ I said, cranking up a smile. ‘Were they caught in a co
mpromising position?’

  ‘Well, not Amanda as such. Apparently it was Keith’s backside in the air.’ Nick gave a wicked grin. ‘That was the last anyone saw of him, poor sod’– he gave a mock shudder – ‘it’s enough to render one instantly impotent.’ I giggled, and his face softened. ‘It’s nice to see you laugh again, Hattie. Anyway,’ he said, hurrying on, ‘the girls will be staying tonight and tomorrow. No doubt they will chat long into the night, so by the time they go home on Sunday evening they’ll be tired and crotchety, and I will be accused of being a lax father.’

  ‘I’m sure you’re a very good father,’ I said, desperate to prolong his company on a one-to-one basis now that everybody else had gone home. I quickly saved the document I’d been working on, then logged off. ‘I’ll walk to the lift with you,’ I said, pulling my jacket off the back of my chair and picking up my handbag.

  ‘Sure,’ he replied, momentarily looking away to greet Barbara, our office cleaner. She swung through the doors carting a Henry vacuum cleaner in one hand and a bag of dusters and wipes in the other. ‘I’m taking the girls to Legoland on Sunday,’ Nick said, turning his attention back to me. ‘Hey, just a thought but… ah, no… you won’t want—’

  ‘What?’ I asked eagerly.

  ‘Well, I just wondered if you fancied coming along? But I can appreciate that hanging around with an eight- and ten-year-old might not be your idea of fun, so forget—’

  ‘I’d love to,’ I said breathlessly, before he could change his mind. I didn’t care one bit if there would be a couple of little girls on the scene, just so long as their father was there, too.