New Girl in Little Cove by Damhnait Monaghan

Author:Damhnait Monaghan [Monaghan, Damhnait]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2021-01-18T00:00:00+00:00

When sun rays crown thy pine-clad hills,

And Summer spreads her hand,

When silvern voices tune thy rills,

We love thee, smiling land.

We love thee, we love thee

We love thee, smiling land.

When spreads thy cloak of shimmering white,

At Winter’s stern command,

Through shortened day and starlit night,

We love thee, frozen land.

We love thee, we love thee,

We love thee, frozen land.

I didn’t know the lyrics, but the heartfelt rendition had me blinking hard. When it was over, people clapped and cheered. “That was beautiful,” I whispered to Doug, my voice catching. “Like a prayer.”

“Newfoundlanders are a cult, sure.” He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from my face. I jerked away when I saw Sister Mary Catherine frowning at us. As soon as the audience began to disperse, she left the stage, headed in our direction.

“I’m out of here,” I said to Doug. “It’s too warm. I’ll see you at the party.” I retrieved my coat and purse from the staff room, loitering there for a while in the hopes of avoiding Sister. Then I headed to the front entrance. It had snowed lightly during the concert and everything was covered in a “cloak of shimmering white.” I watched the last stragglers walk up the road, then Doug came hustling out, rubbing his fingers together in the cold.

“I left my car at Patrick’s when I dropped off the booze,” he said. “I’m low on gas. Can I snag a lift, maid?”

I exhaled loudly. “I hate when people call me that. It reminds me of an old maid.”

“Well, you’ll prob’ly end up one if you stays so sensitive,” he groused. “Jaysus God tonight, woman. It’s just an expression.”

When we got to my car, a note, wet with snow, was tucked under the wipers. Doug snatched it up. “Ohhh, what’s this? Someone’s got a secret admirer.”

“Give it to me, Doug,” I said, my voice sharp.

He held it high above his head, teasing me. I jumped to grab it, but I couldn’t reach. “Give it.”

He angled it towards the streetlight, saying, “I’ll just take a peek first.”

“No!”

He grinned and opened the note. I found myself wondering what his reaction would be. Would he be upset on my behalf?

“Nope,” he said. “Can’t make anything out. I think it’s in French.”

“It is?” I plucked it from his hand and read: “Tu es beau.”

It was flattering, if grammatically incorrect. My shoulders relaxed. Maybe I did have a secret admirer. The writing was different, more childish looking. I was pretty sure this was nothing more than a teacher’s crush, but I would compare it with the others when I got home. I shoved the note in my pocket.

“So, what’s it say?” asked Doug as we got in my car.

“Just that someone thinks I’m pretty. Well, handsome, if we’re doing an exact translation.”

“Seems like a good omen,” said Doug. “You might not end up an old maid, after all.”

I whacked him. “And you might not end up bruised. But I doubt it.”

Patrick’s house was right down by the sea. We could hear the music before we reached the bend in the road.

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