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

by Debbie Viggiano

  Actually I was pretty sure Jackie would most definitely not be persuaded. She’d made Tod pay for a breast enlargement and tummy tuck last year, and was far too self-obsessed to return to the delights of regurgitated milk all over her designer clothes. Tod gave a hollow laugh, as if reading my thoughts.

  ‘No, Hattie, there won’t be any more babies,’ he said sadly, picking up his tea. ‘In fact, there may not even be a marriage for much longer.’ He sipped thoughtfully.

  ‘What?’ I gasped, shocked.

  Tod fiddled with the handle on his cup. ‘I went to see a solicitor today, to make tentative enquiries and find out how much it would cost to pay Jackie off and start afresh.’

  ‘But why?’ I asked.

  ‘Because she’s having an affair with her personal trainer.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Yes. She thinks I don’t know.’

  ‘Tod, are you sure? That’s a heck of an assumption, and surely you should talk to her before you file for divorce.’

  ‘Oh I recognise the signs, Hattie. Let’s just say this isn’t the first time my wife has played away. But it might well be the last. I’m done with all this gut-wrenching misery. The boys are at university and in digs. They’re old enough to stand on their own two feet. I quite fancy a bachelor pad.’ He glanced around the kitchen-lounge. ‘A place like this would suit me down to the ground. There would be no Jackie, supposedly going off to the gym every evening reeking of scent and dolled up to the nines, then coming home hours later with her lipstick kissed off and her hair mussed up, making out she went on to the salad bar with her girlfriends for a gossip while she crunched on carrots all evening. Yeah, right.’

  I carefully set down my mug of tea.

  ‘I know what you’re going through,’ I said quietly.

  Tod looked wary. ‘You do?’

  ‘Yes. I found out, quite by chance, that Nick was seeing someone while I was pregnant with Fin.’

  Tod looked at me, his face a picture of guilt, and then his eyes slithered away. I felt a frisson of shock.

  ‘You knew?’ I gasped.

  Tod set down his own tea and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

  ‘Oh God,’ he said, his voice muffled.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ I whispered.

  His hands dropped down into his lap with a light slapping noise.

  ‘Don’t put that on me, Hattie,’ he said, shaking his head slowly. ‘What sort of person tells their brother’s partner – a heavily pregnant one at that – that her guy is shagging around?’

  ‘How did you find out?’ I asked, my voice barely audible.

  ‘Nick is like Jackie. They’re two of a kind. There are always signs. Nick would drop in on the pretext of seeing me over something quite irrelevant, and then, having legitimately secured his alibi by saying he’d spent some time with me, he’d beetle off. His aftershave often clashed with Jackie’s perfume. At one point I even suspected they were seeing each other.’

  I paled, and Tod realised he’d overstepped the mark.

  ‘Sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,’ he said, running the palm of his hand in agitation over his cheek and chin. ‘And no, before you even ask the question, they were not seeing each other, and never have. I don’t think either of them are quite crass enough to poo on their own doorstep. But I did take Nick to task when he dropped me right in it over that damn drinks party I was meant to be hosting.’

  I nodded, as my mind flipped back through pages of memory… Tod ringing the flat to speak to his brother… his bemusement that Nick was on his way over to attend their apparent soirée. He’d swiftly recovered and gone on to cover Nick’s lies.

  ‘If it makes you feel any better,’ he added, ‘I never met the woman.’

  ‘I did,’ I said quietly.

  Now it was Tod’s turn to pale.

  ‘How the hell did that happen? Did you walk in on them?’

  ‘No. She was a nurse. Or, to be more precise, a midwife. She delivered our baby.’

  ‘Good God, Hattie,’ said Tod, looking appalled. ‘So… so what’s going on between the two of you? Have you kissed and made up?’

  ‘He’s apologised, insisting it meant nothing. Suddenly he can’t do enough for me. But I’m still very angry, Tod. I’m struggling to move on.’

  ‘It takes time, Hattie.’

  ‘How much time?’ I asked miserably.

  ‘A lot,’ he replied, his expression sad. ‘Look, Nick’s my brother, and I love him to bits, but I’ve got to tell you this. He’s always been a bit of a player. He’s broken a lot of women’s hearts and smashed up two marriages chasing after skirt. You’re a lovely girl, Hattie. I’d hate to see you as another of his casualties.’

  ‘But I already am,’ I said, my eyes brimming.

  ‘Don’t cry,’ said Tod, shuffling along the sofa so he was sitting next to me. He draped an arm around my shoulders, hugging me tightly to him.

  ‘S-sorry,’ I cried, ‘I don’t mean to weep all over you. It’s just that I’ve not been able to tell anyone about this. I never would have guessed you’ve been going through the same thing, too. It’s such a relief to talk about it. Not to have it bottled up any more.’

  ‘So what on earth happened in the delivery room?’ Tod gently asked. ‘Did you punch her lights out?’

  ‘No,’ I shook my head, ‘I had no idea who she was until Nick bowled into the delivery room a couple of minutes after Fin was born.’

  Tod tutted. ‘He’d miss his own funeral, that guy.’

  ‘He was away on business, but drove like a demon once he knew Fin was on the way. He arrived to find the midwife holding our son. The two of them just stared at each other. The expression on their faces was just—’

  I broke off as my voice caught.

  ‘Don’t,’ said Tod, squeezing me. ‘Just try and forget about it.’

  ‘But you don’t understand, Tod. She was lovely. So sweet. And she didn’t have a clue that he was with someone else – or that he was about to become a father. She looked so hurt. I really felt for her.’

  ‘Dear oh dear, Hattie. What are the two of us like, eh?’

  We pulled apart and, despite our respective misery, grinned weakly at each other. But in that moment, we found ourselves suddenly staring into each other’s eyes. The smiles slipped from our faces as we gazed on and on. And then, subtly, Tod shifted his position. Slowly, very slowly, uncertain whether to do this or not, he lowered his face to mine. I didn’t flinch away, but nor did I fling my arms around him. In that moment, we were simply two casualties from our respective relationships tentatively reaching out to each other. I wondered if sparks would fly when our lips met. As his mouth came down on mine, I was thankful for the fact that there was zero chemistry, and I knew it had been the same for him too. When we pulled apart, the relief was evident on both our faces. Too late we spotted the shadow in the doorway.

  ‘Well, well, well,’ Nick drawled. ‘What have I interrupted here?’

  Fifty-Five

  Tod and I sprang apart like deflecting magnets, our knees bashing against the occasional table, upsetting our tea cups so dark liquid puddled across the surface.

  Tod jumped to his feet, hands out in a calming gesture.

  ‘This isn’t what you think, Nick.’

  ‘With the greatest respect, Tod, I think I’ve been in enough similar situations to recognise a full-blown snog when I see one.’

  I scrambled to my feet and scuttled over to Tod.

  ‘Your brother was simply consoling me,’ I gabbled.

  ‘Yes, I saw.’

  ‘Look, Nick,’ said Tod. ‘It was my fault, not Hattie’s.’

  ‘Ah, my brother the gentleman.’

  ‘She’s had a shitty time.’

  ‘And that makes it okay, does it? Shall I go around to your house, Tod, and push your wife down on the sofa?’

  ‘Tod didn’t do that,’ I protested.

  ‘No, he didn’t need to,’ said Nick, rounding on me
, ‘because you were willing to prostrate yourself quite unaided, weren’t you, Hattie?’

  ‘Prostrate herself?’ Tod spluttered. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. We were having a cup of tea together.’

  ‘Since when did a cup of tea nearly become a fuck?’ Nick spat. ‘Get out, Tod.’

  ‘I’m going,’ said Tod, putting his hands up in the air. ‘But it’s not what you think.’ He moved towards the door, and then turned back to me. ‘Any problems, Hattie, just call me, right?’

  ‘My girlfriend will not be calling you,’ Nick said, his teeth clenched, ‘because the only problem in this flat right now, is you. So the moment you leave, the problem will be gone. Have I made myself understood?’

  ‘Loud and clear,’ Tod nodded, turning on his heel. Seconds later, the flat door clicked shut behind him.

  Fin chose that moment to stir, making soft mewing noises. I made to go to the nursery.

  ‘Leave him for a moment,’ said Nick, catching hold of my arm.

  ‘He’ll start crying,’ I said, shaking him off.

  ‘He’s not crying at the moment,’ said Nick, his tone daring me to argue. ‘Sit down.’

  I took a deep breath to calm myself, then perched on the edge of the sofa.

  ‘How long have you and Tod been having it off?’

  ‘We haven’t!’ I gasped.

  Nick said nothing, instead scrutinising my face.

  ‘So what was he doing here?’

  ‘He popped in to see Fin—’

  ‘Yeah, right,’ Nick sneered.

  ‘It’s true!’ I protested. ‘He was feeling crappy—’

  ‘And you thought you’d cheer him up?’

  ‘Will you stop interrupting me, and give me a chance to tell you what happened?’

  ‘Will it take long?’ Nick said, his tone sarcastic. ‘I’m just wondering whether to open a bag of popcorn and crack open a can of cola, while your lies entertain me.’

  ‘There are no lies,’ I said emphatically. ‘Tod ended up having a cup of tea and telling me about his awful day. He went to see a matrimonial solicitor. Jackie’s having an affair, and he’s had enough.’

  ‘So he thought he’d come around here and start an affair with my partner instead?’

  ‘Just shut up and listen for a minute, eh?’ I snapped, exasperation getting the better of me. ‘We’ve both had a tough time and inexplicably found ourselves reaching out to each other. It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t premeditated. It just happened.’

  ‘And what if I hadn’t intercepted the pair of you?’ Nick hissed. ‘What else would have happened, eh?’

  ‘Nothing. I’m not attracted to him.’

  ‘Don’t bloody give me that, Hattie,’ Nick snorted.

  ‘It was just a hug and a kiss. Are you going to insist on using this as an emotional stick to beat me with? It meant nothing!’ I cried.

  ‘Ah, touché,’ said Nick softly.

  I immediately realised that, in the last few weeks, he’d said those last three words to me a million times over. And I’d repeatedly flung them back at him.

  ‘Looks like we’re even, Hattie.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I protested. ‘There’s a world of difference between you having a full-blown affair with Annie, and your brother and me comforting each other which led – in a moment of madness – to an unplanned kiss.’

  ‘But who’s to say that kiss wouldn’t have led to anything else?’

  ‘It wouldn’t!’

  ‘So you say, but I don’t know that. No, Hattie. As far as I’m concerned, we’re now the same… both as bad as each other.’

  Fin’s soft noises were turning into grizzles.

  ‘I must go to him,’ I said, standing up and making to move past Nick again.

  Once again he caught my arm, spinning me round to face him.

  ‘Marry me, Hattie.’

  I stared at him, not quite believing what he’d said. It dawned on me that, like most people who put themselves about, Nick was jealous and possessive when it came to suspecting his own partner might have been on the threshold of betraying him. I knew he was angry with his brother, but more than anything I suspected Nick’s ego was dented.

  ‘What do you say?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t know, it’s—'

  ‘Listen to me,’ he urged. ‘I’ll forgive you, if you forgive me. Let’s put the past behind us once and for all. Start afresh. I love you, Hattie. We have a child together. Let’s make it official. I want you to be my wife.’

  And six months later, I was.

  Fifty-Six

  Nick and I settled down to married life together, and family life with Fin. Lucinda and Charlotte weren’t keen to play Happy Blended Families. They’d boycotted our wedding, which Nick was disappointed about. He’d tried to tempt them both with the promise of silk dresses and pearl tiaras, but it wasn’t to be. I made noises of sympathy, but was secretly relieved. What bride, on her wedding day, wants two angry bridesmaids stomping along beside her? I certainly didn’t.

  The girls made it quite plain they only wanted to see their father, so I saw little of them unless their mother dictated otherwise. Sometimes Amanda wanted a weekend away, and insisted the girls do her bidding. On these occasions, they would arrive at the flat, sullen-faced and moody, complaining bitterly about having to sleep together on the sofa bed in the kitchen-lounge.

  ‘The mattress is too hard, Daddy!’ Charlotte wailed.

  ‘And the bed is too small,’ Lucinda added.

  Nick, anxious for a quiet life and always ready to indulge them, instead insisted we sleep on the sofa pull-out and the girls have our bed. Despite the extra laundry this created, I went along with it because I was still hoping to ingratiate myself into their good books, if not their affections. Throughout their time with us I would wear a fixed smile, trying to jolly them up and rah-rah along as we ventured out to ice rinks and pizza places, or made picnics in warmer weather and sat on blankets at the beautiful Trosley Country Park. Lucinda would look down her nose and announce that only common people ate cheese and pickle sandwiches. I’d once cooked chicken nuggets and chips for tea, believing it to be a kids’ favourite, but Charlotte had coldly informed me that they didn’t eat processed chicken. Not for the first time I’d wondered how on earth these two would cope in the real world when they one day left their posh private schools. I always sighed with relief when Nick took them both back to their mother’s.

  We had a winter wedding. The sun shone bravely, although it was bitterly cold. Tod was Nick’s best man, the two of them having made up their differences. At the mention of divorce, Jackie had instantly dumped her personal trainer and crowbarred her way back into Tod’s affections. She was now pulling out all the stops to be the perfect wife, just as Nick had concentrated on being the perfect husband.

  The first year of marriage was happy. Probably the happiest. Fin was a delight for both of us. He was a placid, easy-going child with a sunny nature. Nick doted on him. By this point we were metaphorically bursting out of the flat, and Nick suggested he might be able to afford a little house for us all. When Fin was napping, I’d sit with the local property paper, nursing a coffee, and circling photographs of houses with a biro. They were all extremely modest. Our budget was tight because Nick was still paying fortunes in maintenance for Lucinda and Charlotte. But then Doreen, my mother-in-law, had a sudden heart attack and passed away. Whilst her death was terribly sad, financially it gave us the break we needed. The sale of her large family home was split between Tod and Nick, enabling us to find a lovely place in leafy Sevenoaks.

  The second year of marriage kept me busy making the house our own. I repainted all the kitchen cupboards to give them a cheap facelift, and ripped out tatty built-in wardrobes from the bedrooms, replacing them with charity-shop finds which I upcycled along with bedside cabinets and drawers. The finished result caused quite a stir with my coffee-morning mums. I found myself doing projects for them, transforming ugly old sideboards and scruffy out-of-fa
shion pine tables. Buoyed up with confidence, I put a business card on the cork-board at the local Spar and advertised on a local Facebook page. I’d never be a millionaire, but it brought in some much-needed extra cash, allowing me to work from home with a toddler.

  It was in the third year of marriage that my female intuition hit me like a sledgehammer. Something wasn’t right. I’d been so busy with Fin, the house, and my little upcycling business, I’d failed to spot the moment Nick had started coming in later from work. But somewhere along the way it had definitely crept in; the need to stay out late to schmooze clients, or the necessity of remaining at the office long after hours to focus on a tricky account without the distraction of ringing telephones. But the biggest and most obvious clue was when Nick failed to come home at all.

  I’d sat in my pyjamas, curled into the sofa in front of the television, a late-night movie playing on low volume. Somewhere along the way I’d fallen asleep, waking up hours later, stiff and cold, just as fingers of early morning grey light filtered into the lounge. And it came to me in a flash that old patterns were repeating themselves. Nick had left the first Mrs Green for the second who, in turn, dumped him because he was having an affair with a work colleague. Nick had sought out female company again when I was pregnant with Fin, but what was his excuse this time? And was this the first occasion in our marriage? Or had I been too busy with my child and homemaking to recognise other occasions that just hadn’t flagged themselves up until now?

  My brain felt like it was spinning, trying to find the answers to all the questions. One by one the cogs fell into place and I was presented with two certainties. Firstly, my husband was a serial philanderer. Secondly, if he frequently felt the need to hook up with a lover when committed to someone else, then something had been created. A vacancy.

  Fifty-Seven

  Why do people stay together in marriages that become layered with affairs, littered with tears and lashed with angry words of recrimination?