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

by Debbie Viggiano

  Ten

  ‘Okay,’ said Josh. ‘In a moment, we’re going to walk through a door straight back into an old part of your life. We can’t rewrite history, but we can change the way we deal with it – and that’s in here.’ He made a fist of one hand and tapped it against his heart.

  I nodded, wondering what little gem of a scene was going to greet me.

  ‘It’s time to alter something relating to an event for which, it seems, you blame yourself. It’s important you forgive others in this scenario, but ultimately that you forgive yourself.’

  Forgive myself? I wasn’t too sure about that. If Josh was talking about what I suspected he was talking about, then that would be a tough cookie. I’d spent years mentally beating myself up. Blaming myself. And still did. But I’d give it my best shot, because I was desperate to go home. Never again would I moan about Buddy rolling in fox poo, or Fin treading in it and tracking it into the house, or my mother plotting to marry me off to Mark Jackson and talking suitable wedding venues with Margery. I just wanted to get back to everything that was familiar and dear.

  ‘Ready?’

  I took a deep breath and nodded as Josh indicated the same door I’d walked through earlier. Last time it had led into a pretty pink bedroom. I speculated what room was awaiting behind the closed door this time. Josh stepped forward and pulled the handle down. As I moved over the threshold, I experienced a frisson of shock. This was no room. It was a car. More specifically, it was my car. And I was sitting in it, my hands trembling upon the steering wheel. The vehicle was stationary, parked in a very familiar road.

  I exhaled shakily. I’d replayed this scene a thousand times before. But only in my mind. On such occasions, my brain had conjured up nasty implements… hot needles for sticking into mascara-lashed eyeballs, and a vet’s emasculator for removing horses’ testicles – or, in this case, the eyeballs of my ex-bestie and the testicles of my ex-husband.

  ‘Those are dark thoughts, Hattie,’ said Josh.

  I looked across the handbrake in surprise.

  ‘How come you’re here with me?’

  ‘To guide you. You don’t really want hot needles and veterinary equipment, do you?’

  I sighed. ‘I guess not.’

  ‘Good. Apart from anything else, you were making me nervous.’

  I laughed. Despite the seriousness of what was about to unfold, Josh was keeping it light for me. I appreciated that, and once again felt a mental connection. He grinned, and immediately my heart began to pump, as if I’d just gone for a rather brisk walk. God, but he was handsome. I had a sudden urge to lean across the handbrake and snog Josh senseless. I wondered what the curve of his lips would taste like as I pressed my mouth against his. How would he react? Would he be shocked, and shove me roughly away? Or would he welcome me with open arms, wrapping them around me, one hand momentarily breaking away from my body to feel its way around the edge of the passenger seat, releasing the catch that sent the seat reclining backwards with a whoosh, so that I landed breathlessly on top of him, the pair of us half laughing, but suddenly pausing as we greedily drank each other in, him raising his hands upwards, his beautiful long fingers pushing through my hair as he pulled me down on top of him, his hands moving back down as they urgently wandered inside my hoodie, burrowing under my t-shirt, walking up my spine to my bra strap and making me gasp with delicious anticipation as the hook gave way, me subtly shifting my body weight so he could catch my breasts in his warm palms as my own fingers began undoing all the buttons on that spotlessly white shirt and—

  Good heavens, Hattie, what’s the matter with you? How can you possibly think such outrageously sexy thoughts at a time like this? And anyway, you swore off men forever, remember?

  ‘I’m not privy to know what you’re thinking right now, Hattie, but I suspect you’ve moved on from the dark thoughts.’

  ‘Er, yes,’ I muttered. More like X-rated ones. I forced my mind back to the present situation. It was a dire one. For I was outside the house of my ex-friend Pippa Brown, who, right now, was having it off with my husband.

  Eleven

  ‘Okay,’ said Josh, ‘just to recap, you’re reviewing your past. This is only real to you. You’re not rewriting history. What has gone before can’t be altered. You can tinker with conversation, but not the essence of the scene. However, what can be changed is your mental and emotional response to these situations. Understood?’

  ‘Yes,’ I nodded, as a net-full of butterflies threatened to take off in my stomach.

  ‘I’m going to have to switch frequency to become invisible,’ said Josh. ‘I’ve crossed a dimension here. This is your personal flashback, not mine, so I mustn’t encroach upon it by being seen. I’ll be talking straight into your head too, so nobody else will hear me other than you. Rest assured though, you’re not alone and I am here to support and guide you. Okay?’

  No, it wasn’t okay. Nothing about this situation was okay. But I’d go along with it. Home was calling, and I so badly wanted to return. I nodded my assent at Josh, and then opened the car door.

  Seconds later I was passing through Pippa’s side gate and stepping hesitatingly into her utility room. As previously, laundry was swishing around in the washing machine, and the tumble drier was rumbling away. Once again, my footsteps went unnoticed. My ears tuned in to the racket going on upstairs. It sounded like something out of a porn movie. Pippa was shouting her head off. From the utility room I could hear her voice, but not specifically what she was saying. As I crept through the hallway and put one foot on the bottom tread of the staircase, she became clearer and, indeed, more vocal.

  ‘Oh, yeah, baby, do it like that, yeah, do it like that. Oh, oh-oh-oh! You naughty boy, I’m coming, ah-ah-ah, it’s happening again… AHHH!’

  My bowels once again lurched as I stealthily climbed Pippa’s staircase, swallowing the bile that threatened to rise up as I made my way along the now familiar landing to Pippa and Brian’s master bedroom. Except Brian wasn’t here. He was safely out of the way, at work, tucked behind his desk, probably sipping a coffee his secretary had brought him while he studied the figures on his screen just as I, in Brian’s home, now studied the figures bouncing around on his marital bed.

  Nick’s bobbing backside greeted me, Pippa’s legs wrapped around his hips. A second later, with awesome choreography, the two of them changed position so that Pippa was now on top of my husband. He flung his arms across Pippa’s sheets as she juddered about on him like a jockey trying to stay on a particularly frisky horse.

  ‘I’m gonna whip you with my hair, babe!’ she gasped, shaking back her long red mane before tossing it over her head so it gently lashed Nick’s chest. ‘I’m gonna do that again,’ she panted. And she did. Forward. Back. Forward. Back. I felt motion sick just watching, so goodness knows how she felt. I clung onto the door frame as Nick grabbed hold of her hair, almost sending her nosediving onto his chest.

  ‘You little bitch,’ he gasped, ‘you bloody cock tease.’

  ‘Yes, I-am-I-am-I-AMMM,’ Pippa wailed, as another climax began to take hold. Good God, how many orgasms could a woman achieve in one coupling? About three hundred, at the rate she was going. I wondered if it was possible to have a heart attack from such energetic sex? And whether, if I crept away and left them to it, Pippa would eventually scream, ‘I’m coming, oh-oh-oh, now I’m GOINGGG’, before slumping down lifeless over Nick’s torso.

  But I knew that wasn’t going to happen, because I recognised what was coming, and it wasn’t Pippa. Any second now… three… two… one…

  ‘What the fuck?’ said Nick angrily, as he spotted me clinging to the door frame.

  Pippa’s head turned an unattractive one-hundred-and-eighty degrees before she screamed again, but this time in shock.

  ‘Oh, Hattie!’

  ‘Ah, Pippa, ah-ah-ahhh,’ I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

  ‘Please,’ she begged, jumping off Nick faster than an Olympic hurdler in reverse, ‘don’t tell Brian.�
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  As she scrambled for her clothing, I gave her a withering look, but it was fleeting, you understand, because Nick was getting up from the bed and walking slowly towards me. He still had an enormous erection, and I instantly averted my eyes, looking at his face. His expression was almost insolent. Any earlier contempt on my part was shrivelling by the moment, unlike Nick’s privates, which, out of my peripheral vision, seemed to be waving at me.

  ‘Don’t just stand there, Hattie,’ he sneered. ‘Why don’t you join us?’

  The comment sparked outrage in Pippa. ‘How dare you!’ she shouted at Nick, as she pulled on her thong back to front and winced painfully. But Nick wasn’t listening. His eyes were on me, seemingly boring into my soul, trying to prise away the layers to expose hidden secrets.

  ‘I’m sorry, Hattie,’ whimpered Pippa, not bothering with her bra and ramming a sweater over her head.

  There was no apology from Nick, who remained defiant, his erection still full, as if goading me.

  ‘You know why I do this, don’t you, Hattie?’ he mocked.

  ‘Because you’re a tart?’ I queried, my voice sounding peculiarly calm despite the hideous circumstances being replayed here. Josh had told me I could tinker with the lines of past conversation, but my response to Nick’s question matched the script from two years previously.

  ‘Don’t you talk to me about being a tart,’ Nick hissed, ‘Try taking the plank out of your own eye before you start complaining about the splinters in other people’s.’

  He stopped in front of me, his erection stabbing against my jeans. There was something horribly intimidating about the action and it brought back a bitter memory. My mind touched on another situation… but seconds later the shutter clanged down, blocking it from the fringes of my thoughts, and I was back in the moment. This moment. I was aware of Pippa, in the background, suddenly looking frightened. There was an ominous tension in the air that hadn’t been apparent moments ago, and it was evidently shredding her nerves.

  ‘Get out, Nick,’ she bleated. Her order held no conviction. Unsurprisingly, my husband ignored her.

  I looked at him with revulsion. Who needed this crap? Not me. A two-faced friend and a husband who didn’t know the meaning of honour. I was done with them both, and finished with this marriage. I didn’t need this man. In fact, did I need a man at all?

  Careful, Hattie.

  Josh.

  This is the point where you made a vow to swear off men forever, consequently blocking a destined relationship built on true love.

  He was talking inside my head. I found myself responding likewise.

  What exactly am I meant to be doing right now? Am I supposed to tell Nick I forgive him? Because I don’t feel so inclined. In fact, I feel beyond angry!

  No, forgiving him at this moment is not required, because as time moved on you actually did do that. The emotions you’re currently experiencing are simply old programs that are running. What you failed to do, however, was forgive yourself for thinking that you drove him to behave in this way. But we will address that another time in the appropriate chapter of your life where you can absolve yourself. For now, the only thing that matters is opening your heart, so you can love again in the future.

  As I stood there, watching Nick, but listening to Josh, something deep within me seemed to shift, like a massive slab of ice cracking and fragmenting into little pieces. Two years ago, I had left Pippa’s bedroom with tears streaming down my face, emotionally crippled by a double betrayal. But now I found myself heeding Josh’s words, and subsequently rewriting the lines of the script that had previously played out. Empowered, I cleared my throat.

  ‘I realise now, Nick, that our marriage only lasted as long as it did because I’ve stayed with you out of a sense of duty, a misplaced devotion that has neither been acknowledged nor respected. Whatever I’ve done, I don’t deserve this. This time you’ve gone too far.’

  ‘Good heavens, hark at the little mouse flexing her vocal chords and roaring like a lion,’ he scorned. ‘You won’t divorce me. You haven’t got the balls.’

  ‘In which case, I’ll borrow yours,’ I smiled, and with that I grabbed Nick’s testicles and twisted hard. As he let out an ear-piercing scream, Pippa’s hand flew to her mouth. Nick’s erection dwindled like a popped balloon and he staggered backwards, collapsing heavily on the bed.

  Pippa regarded Nick warily, before turning her pale face to me. ‘Is there any chance we can still be friends?’ she grovelled, her voice full of hope.

  ‘None at all,’ I said cheerfully, before turning on my heel and walking out of Pippa’s bedroom – and straight back into the Halfway Lounge.

  Twelve

  Having apparently undone my vow to swear off men forever, I felt peculiarly elated. How strange. For the last two years – whilst time had done some healing – I hadn’t been aware just how bogged down I’d been with anger and hurt. It had been most satisfactory twisting Nick’s knackers. In fact, I was amazed I’d not done it sooner. Perhaps, when I was home, I should take out an ad in the local paper, offering my testicle-twisting services to other downtrodden wives.

  Ladies. Marriage in crisis? Husband a prat?

  Contact Hattie Green on 01632 960532

  Specialist in ball breaking that will leave him quaking!

  Oh yes. The scales were rapidly falling from my eyes. How had I unwittingly given one person so much control over my life? But how easily was it done! I’d given away my power for years, letting Nick demean me so much that I’d been left with zero self-respect and little self-esteem. But now… well, I felt so much lighter. It was an incredible sensation.

  ‘Well done, Hattie,’ said Josh, appearing by my side again, ‘I’m so proud of you.’ And with that he pulled me into his arms and wrapped me in a congratulatory bear hug. I was immediately overcome with another emotion. Not just sexual attraction – although there was plenty of that if the zingers going up and down my spine were anything to go by – but the fact that his arms felt so right. So perfect. Suddenly I felt confused. They couldn’t possibly be the ‘right’ arms because he resided in a completely different world to mine. In a matter of seconds, I went from elation to despair.

  Get a grip, Hattie, eh? According to your Mr Bradley Cooper lookalike, there’s a terrific guy that the universe just can’t wait to deliver to you.

  ‘Hey, I’m sensing sadness,’ said Josh. He held me away slightly so that he could peer down into my face. ‘Hmm. You need a pick-me-up.’ He led me over to the Halfway Lounge’s sofa. ‘Sit down.’ I didn’t need telling twice and sank gratefully into its squashy depths. ‘Here,’ he said, handing me a glass.

  ‘More brandy?’ I frowned. ‘I’ll be an alcoholic at this rate.’

  ‘No, it’s not booze,’ he grinned, and his smile instantly turned my insides to mush. ‘You won’t have tasted anything like this before.’

  I sipped cautiously. Nice. In fact, very nice. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Ah, now you’re asking. If I said, “Essence of Rainbow”, you’d think I was spinning a line straight out of a Disney movie.’

  ‘Try me,’ I said, taking another sip, and immediately welcoming the sense of fortification stealing through my body.

  ‘Okay. See if you resonate with this explanation. Light is energy. A rainbow is spectral light. To put it simply, there is a way of transferring this energy from all those different colours into objects or liquids. In this case, all those different vibrational colours are revitalising you.’

  ‘It once again sounds very scientific. How does your boss figure in all this?’

  ‘What humans need to recognise, Hattie, is that when they explore science, they are actually exploring All That Is.’

  ‘Right.’ I drained the glass, none the wiser.

  ‘Feeling better?’

  ‘I am, actually.’

  Josh gave me an evaluating look, and instantly the piercing blue eyes began wreaking havoc within me. I gazed up at him from my sitting position on the
sofa, suddenly feeling rather awkward. Why had he stopped talking and, instead, was now staring at me? Did I have a bogey on my nose? My hand automatically fluttered upwards and did a discreet swipe. No. Or, wait! Good heavens, could it be that he was… I gulped… could he be giving me that sort of look? Was it possible? I could feel myself getting rather hot, bothered and flustered. Was something going on here? If so, I needed no encouraging. Whether it was the work of undoing a vow and then drinking an energising rainbow drink, or just feeling drugged with downright desire, something was happening here. Perhaps he wasn’t sure about making a move on me? After all, I’d just revisited a harrowing chapter of my life and watched the multi-orgasmic Pippa in action with Nick. Perhaps Josh needed a little encouragement on my part, to let him know that I was perfectly willing, ready and able to road test my new-found broken-vow joie de vivre. I lowered my eyelashes coquettishly then looked up again in what was hopefully an alluring manner.

  ‘What is it?’ I whispered huskily.

  ‘I was just thinking… no… no, forget it.’

  ‘Forget what?’ I said, subtly moving forward on the sofa, ready to spring into his arms upon being given the slightest encouragement. ‘Tell me!’

  ‘I’m not sure if you’re ready.’

  I fairly tingled at hearing those words. Ready? I was so ready I suspected that at any moment I might self-combust. Should I perhaps stand up, so he could once again wrap his arms around me, to aid any potential lip-locking? Or should I remain on the sofa, so he could sit down next to me, and then we could easily recline to a horizontal level? Either way, he needed encouraging… needed to be given the green light.

  ‘I’m ready,’ I quavered. My whole body seemed to be trembling. I hoped I didn’t look like Buddy when he’d spotted a squirrel and visibly shivered with the anticipation of a chase. Josh’s response was to bestow me with a mega-watt smile which had me gripping the edge of the sofa with excitement.