What Becomes of the Broken Hearted: The most heartwarming and feelgood novel you'll read this year

by Lisa Hobman

  Cassie nodded and tried her best to smile at the woman. She was around fifteen years older than her with an accent that wasn’t local although Cassie couldn’t quite place it. She watched as the waitress walked over to an elderly gent sitting at the counter and began to chat to him. She was clearly a very kind soul.

  The coffee shop wasn’t one she had been in before. It wasn’t sleek enough for Seth to even consider setting foot inside. Shame considering the coffee was excellent and the staff were lovely. But with its outdated eighties décor and scribbled chalkboard menu she knew very well that Seth would never have given the place a second glance. She had happened upon the place by accident but was glad she had. Seth, she decided, was a bloody snob. How was she just realising this now?

  After leaving the apartment she had stood on the pavement outside with her designer wheelie suitcase not knowing what to do or where to go. She couldn’t call Vina because Seth was her brother and it would crush her already broken heart to hear her best friend take his side. Cumbria was an option although her dad worried enough as it was and he would no doubt want to kill Seth once he found out what had happened. The temptation to head straight to Jasper’s house to tell him his wife was a cheating whore, was almost too hard to resist but she had a feeling he wouldn’t care. It would give him the perfect out if he was indeed looking for it and judging by the fact that he was having an affair already it would probably ease any guilt he was feeling. So, she had meandered along past the Kelvingrove and had taken a turn up Argyle Street.

  After eating half the cookie and draining the latte mug she stood to go and pay. The waitress, Jean, smiled as she approached. ‘You’ve nothing to pay. It was on me remember?’

  ‘Thank you again. What you’ve done has… I mean…’ Cassie couldn’t find the words of gratitude she was searching for in her foggy mind.

  ‘It’s fine. Honestly. Are you okay?’

  Cassie nodded. ‘I will be. Once I figure out my next move.’

  Jean nodded knowingly. ‘Well doll, all I can say is time may be a healer but distance. Distance is the key. Get away if you can. Just leave the heartbreaker behind. I did it. Came here from Skye ten years ago after finding my husband in bed with our neighbour. I left and haven’t looked back. Best thing I ever did.’

  Cassie scrunched her brow. ‘But is that not giving in and running away?’ She winced after hearing her own words. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound judgemental.’

  The waitress smiled warmly. ‘I think it’s only running away if it’s you that’s done the wrong. If it’s been done to you then you’re simply making a fresh start.’

  Cassie nodded seeing that Jean spoke a lot of sense. And although it sounded pretty scary maybe getting away for a holiday would be good. Some time to clear her head; decide what to do with the rest of her life now it had changed so irrevocably.

  She turned to leave the café but stopped as a thought sprung to mind. ‘Erm… H-how did you choose where to go?’

  Jean grinned. ‘You’ll think I’m crazy but I took a map of the UK off the shelf in my husband’s study, opened it up, closed my eyes and plonked my finger down.’

  Cassie’s eyes widened at the prospect of giving up total control of her destination to fate. But what did she have to lose? She thanked the waitress for what was possibly the hundredth time and left. As she walked she took out her phone and searched for a reasonably priced hotel to stay in. The next time she looked up she narrowly missed a head on collision with a lamp post. Ugh, Cassie you really need to stop texting and walking, idiot. She spotted a WH Smith across the road and when the traffic cleared she headed over there.

  The map section was vast. But all she needed really was a map of Scotland. A tourist map would suffice. She didn’t think she wanted to go to England. And Scotland was her home now. She located the map she needed and paid for it.

  Her next stop was the hotel she had found. From the reviews it was clean and tidy and it was definitely somewhere Seth wouldn’t think of looking—if he chose to look at all. The receptionist was pleasant but wanted to make small talk, asking questions about whether she was there for business or pleasure. She mumbled an incoherent reply in the hope that the young blonde would get the hint and once she was in possession of her key card she made her way to the second floor.

  She opened the door and let it slam closed behind her. And then it hit her. Her relationship was over. She leaned against the door and slid down it as the tears came. Hot tears that trailed down her cheeks and into her open mouth. She sobbed in physical pain at the knowledge that everything she had dreamed about was gone. There would be no wedding. She wouldn’t become Mrs Guthrie. She would no longer lay awake in bed with that silly smile on her face thinking about how lucky she was. Because it was all gone. Her life was no longer perfect. The man she loved more than anyone in the world had not only broken her trust but he had smashed her heart, her hopes and her dreams to a million tiny, irreparable pieces. And for what? Sex? A quick thrill with someone unfamiliar? Well she hoped to hell it was worth it for him. Because from that moment onwards she would trust no one. She would never make the mistake of giving her fractured heart away so readily again. And she would be sure to build walls around what was left of her dignity to protect her from so-called friends like Pippa.

  *

  When the tears had subsided she pulled herself to her feet once again and stripped out of her clothes. She scrunched up the sexy underwear she was wearing before unceremoniously throwing it in the bathroom waste bin.

  After making herself a coffee with the provisions that had been left in her room she stuck in her earbuds, took the map out of its packaging and opened it out. With a sigh she shook her head. I can’t do this. It’s bloody crazy. I can’t just pick a random place and go there… Can I?

  She lifted her iPod and flicked through searching for a particular track; an angry track that seemed to fit her situation in sentiment and rage. She located it and hit play then yanked open the huge bag of chocolates she had purchase along with the map and shoved a handful in her mouth. As the venomous lyrics to Pearl Jam’s ‘State of Love and Trust’ blanked out all other thoughts she took a deep breath. Oh sod it. Let’s do this.

  She closed her eyes, tilted her head back and with her index finger poised and ready she lowered it to the map.

  Chapter Eleven

  Cassie

  One month later…

  With more than a little trepidation, Cassie walked up the stone path to the front door of Rose Brae in the little Eastern Scotland seaside village of Coldingham and sighed. First impressions of the location were very positive. On a scale of one to ten for prettiness, the village was a twelve but she was still unsure of the crazy leap she had taken on the advice of a complete stranger in a café. However, fears and worries aside and as arranged by telephone, she was due to meet a Mr Mackenzie—the owner of the cottage—at ten that morning to receive the keys. And then her new life could finally begin.

  Her dad had been so lovely and understanding when she had declined his offer to move back home to Cumbria. But a short stay with him had been a sad enough affair. He took the news about Seth’s infidelity very hard and his attitude—especially the expletives she had never heard him utter before—told her that moving home would’ve been too difficult. Her dad would’ve wanted to talk about it and she just wanted to let it go and forget—something her dad wouldn’t be able to do easily when someone had hurt his precious little girl. He would want to analyse everything and he would probably want to pay Seth a visit. She definitely didn’t want that to happen.

  So for a few days she revisited the places of her childhood and walked the beach at St Bees Bay with Patch and her father, laughing as the little dog repeatedly ran towards the water and then retreated as soon as the tide appeared to be chasing him. She enjoyed the salty air and the dramatic views of the red sandstone cliffs that created an imposing backdrop to the Irish Sea as it whispered, lazily up the shingle to form rock pools. It was this break a
way from the city that cemented in her mind that she wanted to be close to the sea again. But just not on this coastline. It held too many memories and she surmised it was time to make some new ones.

  Rose Brae had stood out for her immediately. It looked like such a happy place; a whitewashed stone building with cheery blue painted windows and door. It wasn’t big but there was only one of her. Whilst she waited outside a sense of melancholy washed over her as she remembered the little cottage Seth had taken her to on the weekend he proposed. The garish diamond ring he had given her on that trip was now banished to a keepsake box along with every scrap of evidence that they had ever been associated. She hadn’t the heart to throw the box away. Not yet. She had tried on several occasions in the recent weeks but each time something tugged at her heart strings and she placed the box down and walked away. It was all quite sad really. To think she had given years of her life to someone only to discover that her original fears were founded—she really was never enough for him.

  Sometimes being proved right isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

  Looking back—as she had been wont to do since her life imploded—she decided it was strange how she’d somehow managed to shoehorn herself into a life she had no business encroaching upon. The modern penthouse for starters with its high ceilings and white painted walls simply screamed wealth. But then again so did the whole of Glasgow’s West End. It was a far cry from the modest little cottage she had grown up in and from what she actually considered beautiful. But it was Seth’s home and it was where he thrived so who was she to argue? After all he was the major breadwinner in their relationship. That was why she had been the one to leave after finding him in the midst of his indiscretion; that and the fact that he had slept with her friend in their bed.

  Now was the time to rebuild. And she would have to do that from the ground up because she discovered on walking out of the Seth’s plush million-pound apartment that she pretty much had nothing. Well nothing of significance like furniture, electrical goods, etc. She had managed to retrieve her designer handbags that Seth had gifted and they had been sold on eBay so that she had the funds to at least get by for a while. And she had withdrawn the savings from her bank account—minimal though they were. But she was at that moment rather grateful for Seth’s insistence on paying for everything. Her dad had managed to surprise her with a cheque that would cover her first three months’ rent—it was as if he had expected something like this. And maybe he had.

  Not only had she lost physical items in the split but it appeared their so-called friends had been quick to take sides. Any friends she’d had when she met Seth had gradually been manipulated out of her life by him. And his comments about them not being that bothered if they couldn’t fit around her schedule really seemed genuine. What she hadn’t realised at the time was that he was deliberately changing their plans to clash with any that had cropped up with people she had known before.

  The only friend that seemed to still care was Vina. She had been disgusted at both Seth and Pippa and said she hated him for how he’d treated her. She had apologised so many times that Cassie had lost count. ‘If it wasn’t for me…’ and ‘If only I hadn’t introduced you…’ being the two phrases she repeated as she sobbed. The problem, however, was the fact that blood is thicker than the water under the bridge between Cassie and Seth and nothing would tear apart the Guthrie family. The matriarch herself would make sure of that. Vina’s relationship with Harry was blossoming and their telephone conversations now comprised of her excited friend telling her all the juicy details of her love life and then profusely apologising because she didn’t want to upset Cassie with the talk of relationships. Cassie, on the other hand, was actually glad that Vina was so happy. She deserved it. And it was good that one of them was.

  *

  Back in her present-day version of reality Cassie continued to wait for Mr Mackenzie. The cottage was cute and the end one of a row that sat away from the main road of the Scottish Borders seaside village. The window boxes were a little overgrown but she was looking forward to planting something colourful in them as soon as she got the chance. Although she wasn’t sure what would grow now that autumn was fast approaching.

  Someone cleared his throat behind her, causing her to almost jump out of her skin and she swung round to face the culprit. A scruffy looking man stood there, a furrow in his brow. If this was Mr Mackenzie, he was younger than she had expected and he had the most piercing blue eyes she’d ever seen. His black t-shirt seemed too tight as it clung to the contours of his chest and abdomen, although on second glance she realised it was the top half of a wet suit; the bottom half was covered with khaki board shorts that just reached his knees.

  He scratched his head. ‘Are you Miss Montgomery by any chance?’ The strong Scottish accent surprised her as she had expected an American twang like that of Patrick Swayze in the movie ‘Point Break’. He was most definitely the epitome of the stereotypical ‘surfer dude’. And he was incredibly handsome under all that exterior untidiness. She berated herself mentally for thinking so. Cassie Montgomery, you are steering clear of all men, remember?

  Shoving aside all thoughts of how attractive this surfer was she nodded. ‘Yes, that’s me.’

  He shrugged and shook his head. ‘Oh, right. I thought you’d be older.’

  She recoiled a little at his personal remark. ‘Well I thought you’d be older. Assuming you are Mr Mackenzie.’

  ‘I am, but I’m not the Mr Mackenzie.’

  Cassie was losing patience now. ‘So you are Mr Mackenzie but you’re not?’

  He swiped his hand back through his dirty-blonde hair and grinned. ‘Okay, so you dealt with Mr Rab Mackenzie, yeah? I’m Tadhg Mackenzie, his nephew.’

  ‘Oh right. Well then why are you here… erm… Tiger?’

  He burst into hysterical laughter, throwing his head back as he guffawed. ‘Tiger, ha! That’s a new one on me.’ Her nostrils flared and she crossed her arms over her chest and he pulled his lips between his teeth to try and control his amusement. ‘My name’s Tadgh,’ he repeated slowly as if she was stupid and her skin prickled with annoyance. After all, it was his name that was silly, not her she decided. It was so silly in fact, that she’d already forgotten it.

  She scowled. ‘I heard you the first time,’ she lied. ‘So, Tyj…Targ…oh whatever. Mr Mackenzie.’ She placed her hands on her hips. ‘Do you or do you not have my keys? I’m suspecting not or you’d no doubt have started with that important snippet.’

  ‘Oh aye, I do. Maybe I should have said, eh?’ He chuckled.

  She rolled her eyes and huffed, he was really getting on her last nerve now. ‘Right. Can you hand them over then? Please?’

  He rubbed at the scruff on his chin. ‘Ah, no can do. My Uncle Rab said I’d to show you the ropes, as it were.’

  ‘Well then can you open the door and show me? I’ve been waiting for more than ten minutes. You were late.’

  ‘Aye, sorry about that. Rab’s away to Edinburgh and I totally forgot until I was down at the beach then I thought. “Shit I’m meant to be up at Rose Brae with that spinster woman.”’

  Cassie gasped. ‘Spinster woman?’

  He cringed and his cheeks coloured. ‘Well your name. You know, Miss Montgomery,’ he said in a pseudo posh old lady voice. ‘Sounds all school ma’am-ish. Expected you to be around sixty if truth be told.’

  ‘Well I can assure you I’m neither a school ma’am nor am I sixty.’

  He chuckled and shook his head as he waggled a long finger at her. ‘Aye but you are one of those that says neither and nor,’ he said in that stupid mocking voice again. ‘That’s kind of school ma’am-ish.

  He wasn’t helping her level of irritation and she tapped her foot. ‘Look, are you going to let me in? I have a million and one things to do to get organised. The last thing I need to be doing is standing out here with someone who takes himself for some kind of Billy Connolly.’

  The young man scrunched his brow. ‘Who?’
/>
  Shit. I really am old. Or maybe it’s just Seth’s influence on me. ‘You… you don’t know who Billy Connolly is?’

  He burst into laughter once more. ‘Jeez you’re so easy to wind up. Of course I know of the Big Yin. Who doesnae?’

  Realising she was literally getting nowhere fast she wondered if she had made a colossal mistake in coming to Coldingham and she hoped that this man wasn’t a sample of what to expect from everyone else. ‘Please, Mr Mackenzie, could you please just let me into the cottage?’ She sighed.

  The surfer nodded and stepped in front of her to open the cottage door. ‘So, what brings you to Coldingham, Miss Montgomery?’

  Hearing him call her that after insinuating she was an old woman made her cringe. ‘Please, call me Cassandra.’

  He turned and grinned. ‘Okay. In that case you can call me Mac seeing as you don’t seem to be able to remember my actual name.’

  ‘Mac? Okay, Mac. And I can remember your name. I just didn’t quite catch it.’ She felt the flush of embarrassment heat her cheeks. ‘I mean what kind of name is Tiger for a grown man?’

  ‘It’s Tadhg. Like tie but with a ‘g’ on the end. There’s no r. And it’s Irish. Well, I like to consider it as Gaelic, really. My mum was Irish and my dad was a Scot. Best of both beautiful words.’ He smiled and she smiled in response. He had a very cheery face and as much she hated to admit it, even though he annoyed her he seemed okay…ish. ‘So, why are you here, Cassandra?’

  She followed him inside the house. It appeared smaller than she remembered when the letting agent showed her around two weeks earlier but she reminded herself, again, that she was only one person.