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

by Debbie Viggiano

  ‘If you’re sure,’ he murmured.

  ‘I’m sure,’ I nodded, my head whipping up and down, ‘I’m very, very sure.’

  ‘Excellent,’ he beamed. ‘How’s your diving?’

  I looked at Josh in bemusement. Was this a euphemism for diving headlong into a new relationship – albeit an astral one? In which case, bring it on.

  ‘It’s been some time,’ I said breathlessly, ‘but I’m up for it.’ Oh heavens, Hattie, that sounds so crass. ‘I mean, my diving is good. I think so, anyway. I’ve never had any complaints, if you catch my drift.’ I reddened.

  ‘Is that right?’ Josh murmured. ‘Then let’s put it to the test, eh?’

  ‘Yes please,’ I whispered, standing up. No, no, don’t say ‘please’, Hattie, good grief you’ll be thanking him next. ‘Where do you want to go?’ I asked, sotto voce.

  ‘I think on the beach might be a good starting point,’ Josh replied.

  On the beach? Wasn’t that a bit, you know, public? Not that anybody else was ever around, thanks to all these peculiar vibrational thingies, but even so. Personally, I’d have thought this wonderful large sofa was much better for a reintroduction to some horizontal activity…

  ‘I’m not able to read what you’re thinking,’ said Josh, looking highly amused, ‘but if you’re game for this, then that’s great. Hold onto me tight, Hattie.’

  I didn’t need telling twice, and grabbed hold of Josh enthusiastically. Instantly the earth moved. But not in quite the way I’d been expecting.

  Thirteen

  It seems like a cliché to say that I was so overcome with lust, so heady with desire that the earth didn’t just move but fairly shook as I wound my arms around Josh’s neck. As he enfolded me in a tight embrace, it seemed like a trillion stars exploded in the surrounding atmosphere. I closed my eyes against their brightness and clung to Josh, my body immediately reacting to his proximity. In that moment I was unsure if my legs would ever be able to bear my weight again. My goodness, no man had ever made me feel like this before. But then again, this was no ordinary man. I wasn’t even sure if he could be described as a man at all. After all, this place wasn’t Earth. So presumably, Josh wasn’t human. But before I had time to further dwell upon such thoughts, he was gently extricating himself from my grip.

  ‘Open your eyes, Hattie,’ he said.

  I did, and looked around in amazement. The Halfway Lounge had disappeared, and we were standing on the edge of a sandy cove, shaped like an artist’s palette. The water was so vibrant it was as if it had been injected with a bright turquoise dye. Light glinted off its surface creating millions of tiny diamonds, yet there was no overhead ball of fire causing this wonder. I glanced around, pondering where the brightness and warmth of the day was coming from, for there didn’t seem to be a sun in this world.

  ‘Light here is a little different,’ said Josh, answering my thoughts.

  ‘Where does it come from?’

  ‘All of Creation,’ he said.

  ‘Are you going all religious on me?’

  ‘Nope’ – he shook his head –‘just stating a fact.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ I sighed.

  ‘You don’t need to,’ he smiled. ‘Just enjoy it. So, what do you think?’ He lifted one hand and gestured at the scenery.

  ‘Breathtaking,’ I replied, ‘although that word doesn’t do justice to what I’m seeing.’

  From our vantage point, my eyes roamed along a range of mountains, their tops covered in glistening glaciers. Lower down, creeping right up to the water’s edge in places, was a dense green forest of what looked like trembling aspen and balsam poplar. It was both beautiful and tranquil.

  ‘Shall we sit down?’ asked Josh.

  I looked at the ground doubtfully. It was covered in shingle and didn’t look particularly comfortable. Before I could make any comment, a huge squashy beanbag appeared at my feet.

  ‘For Madam,’ said Josh, his eyes twinkling.

  ‘That is such a neat trick,’ I laughed, sinking downwards and allowing the filler to mould itself around my bottom and thighs. Bliss.

  ‘You’re perfectly able to perform a “trick” or two yourself,’ he pointed out, flopping onto a second beanbag. ‘In fact, why don’t you give it a go? I’ll have an ice-cold beer, please, Hattie.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, unsure, ‘remind me how to do it?’

  ‘Just desire it.’

  Hmm. There were plenty of things I desired right now, and beer wasn’t one of them. Nonetheless, I was anxious to please Josh, so gave it a whirl. I immediately thought about a tankard kept in my kitchen cupboard for my father, which he sometimes used if we went out in the garden to relax in the summer months. Mum and I would nurse a flute of Prosecco apiece, while Dad contentedly sipped his lager. The same tankard suddenly appeared in Josh’s hand.

  ‘Good effort,’ he said encouragingly, ‘but it’s empty.’

  ‘Oh, this isn’t as easy as I thought it would be.’

  ‘Keep practising,’ Josh smiled, ‘nice and cold, and not too much—’

  ‘Oops, sorry,’ I apologised, as froth poured down the side of the tankard.

  ‘—head,’ Josh added, watching with amusement as liquid dripped all over his glowing white jeans.

  ‘Oh dear,’ I said, leaning over and rubbing ineffectively at the wet patch, then instantly snatching my hand away. What are you doing, Hattie? You look like you’re feeling him up, for goodness’ sake.

  ‘No worries, I’ve got this,’ said Josh, as the foam immediately disappeared, and the trousers reverted to their former pristine appearance. ‘Keep practising,’ he said, chuckling.

  ‘Right,’ I muttered.

  ‘You were thinking about Prosecco just now, so how about you keep me company and we’ll drink companionably together whilst enjoying this perfect view.’

  ‘Okay,’ I nodded. This time I successfully produced a glass of pale gold bubbles and was privately pleased not to spill one drop.

  ‘Perfect,’ Josh nodded his approval, ‘I’ll make a cosmic barmaid out of you yet.’

  I laughed, appreciating his banter and how easily we joked together, then carefully put the flute to my lips. Heaven. We sat on our beanbags soaking up the fabulous view, quietly enjoying our refreshments. I gave a contented sigh. This was all a far cry from my normal life. When had I last sat outside enjoying good weather and the company of a man? Last summer, if you counted Vigo Village’s one month of decent sunshine. For the whole of July, the temperature had soared, rapidly drying out the lawn and bringing ants crawling to the surface of the baked earth. They’d driven Buddy nuts as he’d lain at my feet. On a couple of occasions there had been two men with me. My father, and my son. Three men, if you included a male dog in the mix. Sitting here now, with Josh, it felt very different. Very right. That word again. But it was true. Here, by the water, I felt like one half of a couple. Weird. I sneaked a look at him. He was gazing at the horizon, apparently lost in thought. I cleared my throat.

  ‘Don’t you ever get lonely, Josh?’

  He turned and looked at me, his face instantly creasing into a smile.

  ‘Never.’

  ‘But you’re here, all on your own.’

  ‘Who says I’m on my own?’

  ‘Well, aren’t you? When I’m not around, who is with you?’

  ‘Others who need helping. Lots of us do this, you know. Even you.’

  ‘Me?’ I asked, startled. ‘I don’t know this place.’

  ‘Yes you do, Hattie,’ he murmured. ‘You know it in your dreams, you just can’t remember it.’

  ‘I come here in my dreams?’

  ‘Not necessarily specifically here. This is a special place reserved for particular lessons. But hopping across the veil, yes. We all do it at night, we just don’t remember it.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because we’re not meant to. It would interfere in our daily lives otherwise. And as I said before, if everyone consciously knew about this p
lace, they would be dropping in the moment things got tough back home. But at night, ah, that’s a different matter. In sleep, the mind is released. It can go anywhere.’

  ‘What, even to Jupiter?’

  ‘And beyond. You’d be amazed how big Creation is.’

  ‘You’re making my brain boggle,’ I said, taking another sip of Prosecco. ‘So, you’re saying I skip over here at night?’

  ‘That’s about the measure of it,’ Josh grinned.

  ‘In which case, why didn’t you just summon me to the Halfway Lounge when I was asleep in my bed?’ I frowned. ‘Why go through that charade in Tesco?’

  ‘Firstly, I didn’t summon you. You responded to the universe’s intervention. I’m just a co-ordinator.’

  ‘You’ve lost me.’

  ‘Secondly,’ said Josh, ploughing on, ‘the task in question couldn’t be achieved if you’d been tucked up in bed. The circumstances weren’t right. By contriving the situation in the supermarket, there is a better chance of you remembering things when you return.’

  ‘Right,’ I said, none the wiser. I tipped back my head and drained the glass.

  ‘In the meantime,’ said Josh, ‘do you fancy going for a swim?’

  I balked. What? Stripped down to my smalls in front of Josh? No thanks. The last thing I wanted was him catching sight of my jelly belly and cellulite thighs.

  ‘Come on in,’ said Josh.

  I did a double take. Like a badly edited film, Josh had literally ‘jumped’ from his beanbag to standing up to his knees in seawater. The white shirt and jeans had been replaced with glowing white swim shorts, the hemline of which was rapidly soaking up the water as he turned his back on me and began to wade out. I felt myself go slightly hot as my eyes greedily roved over his broad back, but not before I’d caught a glimpse of an impressive six-pack. The water looked so inviting. Apart from anything else, I wanted to swim with Josh. Mind made up, I scrambled to my feet and was surprised to find myself wearing an itsy-bitsy bikini that, back home, would probably have cost a month’s wages. Even better, my stomach was beautifully flat and – I craned my neck round – yes, no cellulite. Had I manifested this? The perfect body. Flipping heck. If only it was as easy in everyday life. But right now, I was going to milk this moment for all it was worth.

  ‘Wait for me!’ I called.

  And then I threw back my head, felt my hair ripple over my well-toned shoulders, and followed the Adonis ahead of me into the water.

  Fourteen

  Wading after Josh was pleasurable for two reasons. Firstly, I could study him without him knowing. Secondly, I’d never been in water like this before. As my eyes feasted on Josh’s well-defined back, travelling across the biscuity-golden skin, another part of my senses revelled as water sprayed up and over me when I clumsily splashed after him. It also struck me that there was an awareness of every individual drop of water tickling and fizzing against my skin. Never had I felt so alive. Which was pretty bizarre, considering the real me was presumably still prostrate in a Sidcup supermarket.

  ‘Come on, slowcoach,’ Josh called, half turning and giving me the benefit of a chiselled chest covered in a smattering of dark-blond hair. I couldn’t help noticing how it darkened and narrowed to a tantalising snail trail. I had an overwhelming desire to trace the line of it with my fingertips. Gasping at such audacious thoughts, I concentrated on the task in hand – bounding after those spotlessly white swim shorts.

  The floor was shelving down now and, bit by bit, our midriffs disappeared below the waterline. The temperature was refreshing without being cold, and a sensation of bubbles made me feel like I was immersed in a giant glass of Alka Seltzer. Thrusting my arms out, I pushed forward, kicking my legs, and launched into a stylish front crawl that I’d never perfected back home but which, here, was wonderfully effortless. I streaked past Josh, then did a neat flip turn, twisting out of an underwater somersault so that I was facing him again. Surfacing, I tossed back a waterfall of wet hair and grinned at Josh’s expression. He looked amazed. As well he might. I was gobsmacked.

  ‘You’re a good swimmer,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ I replied modestly, ‘you should see me in action at the local swimming pool.’

  Josh raised an eyebrow. ‘Future Olympic contender for the women’s one hundred metres freestyle?’

  ‘More’ – I put my head on one side – ‘certificate for achieving ten metres in the children’s pool.’

  Josh roared with laughter. ‘I like your sense of humour, Hattie.’

  And I like you, I privately thought.

  ‘So, if the reality is that you’re not long out of water wings,’ said Josh, ‘it must be safe to assume your efforts at manifestation are suddenly coming along in leaps and bounds.’

  I grinned at him in delight. ‘Yes, I guess they are.’

  ‘Good.’

  We were quite a way from the shoreline now and treading water, something I’d never achieved at Swanley’s White Oak Leisure Centre. Nick had always loved hurling himself off the top board in the diving area, while I’d cowered at the side, watching him enviously as I clung to the tiled ledge, making sure the lifeguard was within shouting distance.

  I noticed Josh giving me that look again… the one that set winged creatures flapping about in my stomach and gave me a delicious sense of anticipation. I gazed back at him, praying my pupils hadn’t dilated to the size of giant clam shells.

  ‘Do you have any regrets, Hattie?’ he asked softly.

  I blinked, unsure of his question. Of all the things I’d hoped he might ask, it hadn’t been that.

  ‘Do you mean in my life, in general?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Well, er, you know’ – I blew out my cheeks – ‘yes, a few, but then no more than the average person. Why?’

  ‘A person shouldn’t go through life with regrets.’

  I frowned. ‘Sometimes it’s unavoidable.’

  ‘Hm, I disagree.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I asked, aware that a tone of defensiveness had crept into my voice.

  ‘Are there things in life that you still want to do, but haven’t done?’

  ‘Are you talking about a bucket list?’

  ‘Yes and no.’

  ‘You have a habit of contradicting yourself when I ask a direct question,’ I said, feeling somewhat exasperated.

  ‘I apologise. Okay, you mentioned a bucket list. Do you have one?’

  ‘Um, well, since you ask, no, I don’t. I’ve never given it any thought.’

  ‘Is that because you’ve been too preoccupied with the past and what might have been rather than what could be?’

  I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out.

  ‘You tell me,’ I said somewhat tartly, ‘after all, you’re the one with the inbuilt encyclopaedic knowledge about me. Do those mind-reading skills go so deep that you actually know me better than I know myself?’ I was aware of sounding petulant, but I didn’t like the probing. Josh had touched a nerve, and I was reacting accordingly. ‘I get what’s going on here,’ I said, narrowing my eyes. ‘It’s a softly, softly approach, isn’t it? Let’s get Hattie relaxed. Then I’ll suggest she revisits a troublesome former part of her life. Put things right. Then whoopie-doo, she can have a nice rainbow drink, loll about for a bit on a beanbag, enjoy some recuperation, have a swim, and just when she’s feeling like a cross between Tom Daley and a mermaid, I’ll hit her over the head with a list of regrets and suggest she revisits another dark corner of her past. Well I don’t appreciate it, Josh. And you can tell your boss, or whoever it is that appointed you as “co-ordinator” of my life, to bog off and keep his nose out.’

  ‘That was quite a speech,’ said Josh, looking astonished.

  I could feel myself flushing with shame at being so outspoken, so unnecessarily rude, but was also petrified of Josh knowing secrets that were buried so deep that most of the time I conveniently managed to forget they even existed, until moments like this
came along, where they rattled their chains, begging for release, demanding to be unburdened.

  ‘Sorry,’ I muttered, lowering my gaze to the watery depths beneath me, watching my feet distort in the ripples created as they constantly paddled backwards and forwards to keep me afloat.

  ‘I’ve told you before, you don’t need to apologise. I appreciate the fact that, despite this backdrop being something like From Here to Eternity, this whole experience is tough for you.’

  ‘Do you have regrets, Josh?’ I demanded, volleying his question right back at him.

  ‘Only one,’ he said wistfully.

  I hadn’t expected that answer. Somehow, I’d rather anticipated his response would be something of a lecture. How he’d gone through life fulfilling every desire, shoving obstacles – or even people – out of his way in order to achieve the holy grail of attainment… perfection… a halo… whatever the cosmic equivalent was for reaching one’s goal.

  ‘Which is?’ I prodded.

  His mouth twisted sadly, and for a moment he looked almost vulnerable.

  ‘I’ve never fallen in love. Not properly. Oh, I’ve had a few relationships, don’t get me wrong. I even lived with a lovely woman for a couple of years. But the moment she started talking marriage and babies, I knew she wasn’t The One.’

  ‘But you just called her a “lovely woman”? If she was pretty and kind and companionable and ticking all the boxes, why not spend the rest of your life with her?’

  ‘Because,’ he sighed, ‘I knew, deep down, it wasn’t meant to be.’

  ‘How?’ I persisted.

  ‘She didn’t make my heart sing.’

  I stared at him. Was that what true love was all about then? Addressing your mundane everyday life, juggling the commute to work with the household chores and then, at the end of the day, yawning your way into bed with somebody who flicked on a switch inside your heart so that ‘The Sound of Music’ was being played at top volume?

  ‘So’ – I puckered my brow – ‘why didn’t you change your personal circumstances? Do a bit of manifesting – some of that cosmic ordering you were talking about earlier?’