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

by Lisa Hobman

  Good grief. ‘Oh, it’s a long story. I don’t want to bore you with the minutiae of my life.’

  In her peripheral vision she saw him shrug. ‘I’m in no rush to be any place.’

  She turned to face him again. ‘Look, I don’t mean to be rude or offensive, really I don’t but it will probably sound that way… I really don’t feel like talking just now. I hope you can respect that. I need a break from thinking about it all. I just need to be for a while. You know?’

  He nodded again. ‘Aye, I totally get that.’

  She sighed with a smile and nodded. ‘Thank you.’ And once again she peered out at the view before her, watching as the colour palette of the sky changed yet again.

  ‘Have you ever surfed?’ Mac asked.

  So the subtle thing didn’t work and neither did the direct approach. ‘No, Tiggy, I’ve never tried it.’ She huffed.

  He chuckled. ‘Look, I thought we’d agreed you’d call me Mac? Or Tiger… I quite like Tiger, but Tiggy? Not so much. Makes me feel like a character oot a kid’s story.’

  To begin with she’d been determined to get his damned silly name right but now, purely as a mechanism to show him he was forgettable—although who was she trying to kid?—she chose to get it wrong on purpose.

  She wagged a finger and nodded. ‘Right, yes, Mac… Mac it is.’ Waving a dismissive hand now she told him, ‘Anyway, don’t let me keep you from anything.’ Ooh harsh, Montgomery, a little harsh.

  Once again, he appeared oblivious to her invite to leave. ‘I reckon surfing would be good for you. I reckon it’d help. It helped me after… Well it just helps, you know? There’s something to be said for being on your board, focusing on your balance and catching the right wave at the right moment.’

  She turned slightly to watch him speaking animatedly about something that clearly held his heart and her own softened a little. A faint smile graced his features but sadness emanated from him briefly too and she wondered what heartache had been eased for him by his love of surfing.

  She tucked her hair behind her ears. ‘Oh, I don’t think it’s really my thing. I’m more of a sitting-on-my-bum-observing type.’ She felt her cheeks flame at her admission which showed her as the unadventurous wuss she was.

  He turned his face towards her and grinned again. ‘Ah, don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it, Cassie. Live a little eh?’ And with that final comment he pushed himself to his feet and headed off in the direction of the grassy hill without a backward glance.

  Chapter Sixteen

  After the first week of her new life in Coldingham, Cassie was beginning to feel a bit more settled. The village felt a little like a comfy old sweater—familiar and cosy but not something she envisaged hanging on to long term. After all, the last time she thought she was in for the long haul she got stabbed in the heart by the excruciating sting of betrayal. She decided, therefore, to take each day as it came.

  Connection to the internet had taken a little longer than she would’ve liked but once it was up and running she threw herself in to her work; the first local task, proofreading a website for a new Scottish Borders pet care company. Seeing all the photos of cute, furry companions made her nostalgic all over again. Bilbo, the Labrador had pretty much grown with her and he’d been such an affectionate, sensitive fellow. He was great to snuggle up to and he had this amazing way of sensing when she’d had a bad day at school. He’d sit and place his paw on her leg and tilt his head in a way that almost said ‘Tell me what’s wrong and let me help.’ Bilbo had died of old age when Cassie was in her final year at uni and she had sobbed for three days straight.

  Losing Bilbo had broken her heart but Seth, in his own typical way had bought her a designer handbag to help her get over it and that was before they were officially a couple. It was definitely his go-to solution for any problem. He had never been particularly good at expressing himself outside of the boardroom and bedroom, choosing to do so with gifts instead. She knew he meant well to begin with, but as time went on and it was still his answer to everything she did wonder why he felt that gifts were better than words or a simple hug. His once-size-fits-all approach was a little lacklustre when it came to situations involving powerful emotions that didn’t involve winning something. She laughed to herself without humour as she wondered why he hadn’t sent her a designer bag after she had found him in bed with Pippa.

  *

  At the end of the week her dad surprised her with a visit. To her delight he brought Patch with him and when he realised she wasn’t exactly equipped for a sleepover he even took her on a trip up to a well-known furniture store near Edinburgh and purchased a new flat pack bed, mattress, bedside table and lamp. Luckily, she had decided when she moved in that it would never be an office seeing as she loved working at the kitchen table so much. She could spread out there and be near the kettle, the fire and the fridge. And seeing the new furniture in situ confirmed that the room was perfect for her dad when he chose to come and visit.

  They took Patch to the beach and laughed as he chased seagulls, barking in his high-pitched yip; his tail wagging at a hundred miles an hour.

  ‘This place is stunning, Pebble.’ Her dad sighed contentedly as they stood looking out to sea.

  She smiled at the return of her nickname. ‘It really is, isn’t it?’

  He put his arm around her shoulder. ‘It’s just… so you. I think it’ll do you so much good to be here. To be independent. And it’s not so far for me and Patch to come and visit… if you’ll have us.’

  She nudged him playfully. ‘Oooh, I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.’

  He laughed and she realised it was a sound that she had rarely heard in recent years. ‘I’m proud of you, you know.’

  She turned to face him. ‘For what?’

  ‘For leaving. It took guts. So many women in your position would’ve just brushed it under the carpet and believed him when he said it meant nothing. But not my Pebble. I’m just glad I brought you up to believe in yourself. To know that you deserve more.’

  A lump lodged in her throat. He was right. If she had been another man’s daughter she may have gone running back to Seth. But Michael Montgomery’s daughter was made of tougher stuff—even if she hadn’t realised it until very recently. Until fate forced her hand.

  ‘You know, I thought Seth was the type of man you wanted for me: someone to look after me, someone with status, security and such. I guess I was wrong.’

  Her dad sighed and shook his head. ‘Cassie, if I know anything about you it’s that you don’t need a man to look after you. You’re a strong woman. You just lost a bit of yourself when you were with Seth. But what I want for you is happiness. I don’t care if you live in a bloody caravan so long as you’re happy and you’re you.’

  ‘Morning, Cassie!’ A voice from behind called out and she turned to see Mac jogging along the sand in his tight t-shirt and board shorts.

  ‘Oh… hi there.’ She waved, hoping he would just pass on by. But of course, he didn’t.

  He jogged over and stopped in front of them. ‘Hi there. I’m Tadhg Mackenzie, though you can call me Mac. My uncle owns Rose Brae.’ The younger Mackenzie held out his hand towards Cassie’s dad.

  Michael gripped it and shook it firmly. ‘Good to meet you. Michael Montgomery. Cassie’s father.’

  ‘Ahhh, yes I see the family resemblance. Although you’ve a little less stubble than Miss Montgomery.’ Mac guffawed and much to Cassie’s surprise her dad joined in. She rolled her eyes at the pair of them.

  ‘Haha! Yes! Very funny. Very funny. So, you’re my daughter’s first friend here I take it?’

  Mac scrunched his brow and cringed. ‘Oh… well I wouldn’t know about that.’ He held up his hand and spoke behind it in mock secrecy. ‘Not sure I’ve endeared myself to your lassie.’

  Michael grinned. ‘Oh, she’ll come around.’ He winked at the young man.

  ‘Aye, well, time will tell, eh? Right, best be off. This beer belly won’t flatten itse
l’, eh?’ He set off jogging again.

  Michael, still grinning, shook his head. ‘Beer belly? I wish I had a bloody beer belly like that. Six-pack yes but not of beer that’s for sure. He seems like a grand lad. You were a bit off with him.’ Her dad frowned.

  ‘He’s just a bit… I don’t know… intense. Full on. Irritating.’

  Michael shook his head. ‘Well I liked him.’

  Rolling her eyes once more she said, ‘You would.’

  *

  Her dad’s visit was over too soon but he really did seem taken with the place and she was relieved. He seemed to relax in the knowledge that she wasn’t living in some god forsaken slum. He commented over again that the place suited her and he called her Pebble as if it was the most natural thing in the world without Seth Guthrie to frown upon it.

  Once her father had gone she continued to work on the website for the pet care company and her mind drifted and she imagined a little cuddly ball of fluff sitting by her feet as she worked; nuzzling her when it was time for walkies or dinner. Having Patch around had been wonderful and now he had gone and even though she had only been in her new place a short time, she was struggling to get used to the quiet. When she had lived with Seth there had always been something going on whether it was a dinner to dress for, or music on the stereo system. But here in Coldingham she was weighed down by the silence. She stopped what she was doing as a pair of friendly, big brown eyes smiled out of her laptop screen at her. The little fellow had his head tilted to one side just how Bilbo used to sit.

  Maybe a dog was the answer?

  Without stopping to think things through and without writing her for and against list—a method highly favoured by her ex—she quickly opened another tab and began to search for local animal adoption centres. Her heart skipped when she came across a website for a rehoming centre called BARK based in Berwick-Upon-Tweed, only a few miles away across the border into England. She decided to have a more detailed look and began to rifle through the photographs of dogs waiting to be rehomed. Her heart lurched as she regarded each bearded face and lolloping tongue, wishing she could simply take them all. She landed on a page that was titled ‘Cliff’ and the photo was a cute little Border Terrier with his head tilted to one side and sparkling brown eyes staring back at her. That was it.

  She was in love.

  Cliff was a ridiculously named, honey brown terrier with a coarse coat and an expression-filled face. He was two years old and had been taken in by BARK when his previous owners didn’t want him anymore. Knowing this fact about him created a feeling of empathy within Cassie. Deceived by those he loved and trusted too. Perhaps Cliff and I could be each other’s lifeline?

  She made a call to Mr Rab Mackenzie to confirm that she was allowed to have a pet at the cottage and was filled with relief when he confirmed that she was, so long as she paid for any damage that may occur as a result of the canine. But of course, she knew this would be the case and it didn’t deter her. Next, she made a quick call to the rehoming centre and arranged a visit after checking that Cliff was still waiting for his forever home. Excitement built within her and she knew that this was going to change everything but in the best possible way.

  Two days later a woman from the rehoming centre made a visit to Cassie’s new home to ensure that her environment was suitable and that she was home enough to take care of a pet. Once all the relevant checks were made she arranged a visit to meet Cliff the following weekend.

  With a nervous excitement Cassie arrived for the very first blind date of her life—it just happened to be with a four-legged chap called Cliff. The centre was filled with the sound of barking dogs and people bustled around cleaning, playing and bringing out animals to meet their new owners. Cassie’s stomach knotted and she desperately hoped that Cliff would like her—after all it was the dog that really did the choosing if the truth was known. She approached the reception desk and was greeted by a smiling young woman who took her details.

  ‘Oh yes, our system says you’re here to meet Cliff. Is that right?’ The woman whose name badge read Maddy asked.

  Cassie nodded. ‘Yes, I can’t wait. I think it was love at first sight.’ She giggled.

  ‘Aww, that’s great. He’s a little sweetie. If you’d like to wait a moment I will get Tessa who came to do your home visit and she’ll make the introductions.’

  Maddy disappeared through a door and returned moments later accompanied by Tessa.

  ‘Hi, Cassie. Good to see you again. Come on through.’ She gestured to the door beside the reception desk and Cassie did as instructed. She walked into the small room which had a door out on to a small enclosed grassed area. Her palms were sweating and her heart fluttering in her chest as if butterflies had taken flight in there.

  She didn’t have to wait long until Tessa opened the door once more but this time she wasn’t alone. ‘Cassie, I’d like to introduce you to Cliff. Cliff, this is Cassie,’ the smiling woman said as she handed the lead over.

  Cassie crouched on her haunches and the little dog, yipping with excitement, leapt into her lap, almost knocking her from her feet. He began licking her face and almost climbing on to her shoulder and she squirmed and laughed as he did. It was as if Cassie was his long lost best friend and he was relieved for her return. He couldn’t seem to get close enough and Cassie closed her eyes as tears began to threaten. He was perfect and she was done for. Her heart was his immediately.

  ‘Hello, little friend. Hello,’ she cooed in her best dog-friendly tone and he lapped it up, his whole body wriggling as his little tail wagged frantically.

  ‘Come on, Cliff, let’s show Cassie the garden, eh?’ Tessa laughed.

  Cassie scrambled to her feet and the skipping dog rushed towards the outside space. Tessa unclipped his lead and he ran to the other end of the patch of grass to fetch a ball. He darted back to Cassie and dropped it at her feet.

  Tessa grinned and shook her head. ‘Well, I’d say that’s a pretty good sign, Cassie.’

  Cassie stooped to pick up the ball and Cliff skipped around in circles waiting for her to throw it. As soon as she did he went dashing after it and brought it back once again. She watched in awe as he jumped around and played but always came back to her, almost as if to check that she was still there.

  It was evident from that first meeting that Cliff had already made the decision for both of them. She was his and that was that.

  By the end of Cassie’s third week in Coldingham she had a new partner in crime in the fuzzy shape of Cliff the dog. She had toyed with the idea of changing his name but considering he was already two years old she figured it would only confuse him so the name stuck. In a bizarre way it suited him. She had already spoiled him rotten with toys and treats, along with a new bed that looked like a tiny couch, a blanket and a shiny new collar.

  Cliff curled up at her feet when she was working and just as she hoped, he pawed at her when he was ready for attention. Funnily enough it always coincided with the time that Cassie needed to take a break from the screen. It was a match made in heaven. And apart from food and walks, he expected nothing from her. His love was unconditional. It was the perfect relationship and she couldn’t believe she had waited so long to get a dog. Seth was such a clean freak. Nothing could mess up his pristine monochrome world. Well now she had her own world and Cliff was welcome to mess it up as much as he liked—within reason of course. Luckily, he was house trained and walked really well on his lead. Just perfect.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Mac

  Mac guessed early on that the new tenant at Rose Brae wasn’t looking to make friends right away and so he kept out of her way as much as possible. Her dad had seemed nice and friendly when they had met briefly at the beach but Cassie not so much. After she had been there for around three weeks he spotted her on the beach with a little Border Terrier dog. His uncle had said she had called to ask if she was okay to get one and had apparently sounded ecstatic when Rab had said yes. She clearly adored the little fluff
ball as she ran around the sand chasing it and being chased, throwing a little red ring and drying the dog off when it had been jumping around in the shallows. She was smiling and that was a very positive step. But still he kept his distance. She’d made it quite clear that she wanted to be alone—or maybe she wanted to be left alone by him. Whatever the reason he watched her from afar. Not in a stalkery, creepy way. Just as an inquisitive observer.

  She had never said why she was in Coldingham but he recognised the forlorn look of a love lost, in her eyes. He’d seen it on his own reflection after his parents’ death and he wondered if someone she loved had also died. Or maybe her heart had been broken and she was grieving the loss of love itself. Both countenances would no doubt appear the same. Whatever it was, she was clearly escaping from something or someone. But he wasn’t going to pry.

  Sunday evening arrived and Mac was standing, beer in hand watching as his Uncle Rab chopped wood for his stove. It was fairly warm out and they had eaten barbecue, alfresco for dinner. Seagulls called overhead and Mac smiled up at their familiar song—a sound that made him feel at home.

  ‘So, I see the woman at Rose Brae has a new little friend,’ Mac said as he sipped on his beer.

  ‘Aye, I checked in on the lassie. She seems settled. The wee dug is a cutie. Daft name though.’ Rab shook his balding head and frowned. ‘Cannae remember what it is but I remember thinking “what kind o’ dog’s name is that” when she told it to me.’

  Mac laughed. ‘Daft name, eh? She doesn’t seem the type. Too straight-laced. So… does she seem happy here? You know with the village and all? Miss Montgomery I mean.’ He failed miserably at his attempts to sound nonchalant.

  Rab stopped chopping and straightened, bending backwards slightly and huffing. ‘I’m getting too old for this. You should be doing it.’ He winked and pointed his axe at his nephew. ‘And yes, she seems happy enough. She’s a lass of few words though. A wee bit bookish if you get my meaning? Are you interested then, eh?’ He winked again.