As the plane descended to land in London, Eoin peered out the window at the vast city below. He had visited one of his mother’s aunts here once when he was much younger, but they had travelled by ferry and car so he had never seen it from the air. He marvelled at the sights he knew so well from books and films, such as Tower Bridge and the loop of the Thames as it passed the Millennium Dome. The plane dipped low and crossed the docklands water as it jetted in to land. The airline was one of Leinster’s sponsors so the whole squad got a little bit of extra attention – the pilot even announced to the other passengers that they were on board and wished them luck in Twickenham.
‘It’s a bit like being a celebrity,’ said Killian, who had sat alongside Eoin and Charlie on the flight. ‘Maybe there’ll be champagne going home if we win!’
‘Champagne wouldn’t be much use to us, would it?’ asked Charlie. ‘I’d prefer another ten bags of those spicy peanuts.’
Parked outside the airport there was one enormous coach to carry Ted and the Leinster players, while Ted’s assistant Tony and the other coaches went off to collect their hire car. The coach poked its way through the busy streets past sky-scrapers and strangely shaped buildings that were taller than anything Eoin had seen before. Traffic seemed to go faster than it did in Dublin and the people looked even more hassled.
After well over an hour on the road the coach eventually pulled into the grounds of a very posh-looking school. The white marble pillars were far grander than Castlerock, and Eoin looked with envy at the shiny new swimming pool and sports pavilion they passed on their way up the drive.
Leinster were allocated two of the big dormitories and the boys were split into the teams on which they had been named back in Dublin. When settled, they walked over to the canteen and joined the queue for dinner. Eoin looked around the huge hall and caught a strange mixture of accents as the boys chatted. The bright pink tracksuits ensured that Stade Français stood out, but there were other groups that were vying for attention too with loud roars and laughter. A couple of the Scottish lads were wearing kilts and the Italians were trying to take photos of them on their phones.
‘Half the sides are here and half in another school up the road,’ said the cook as she doled out a bowl of steaming pasta. ‘I hope you enjoy your stay at our school.’
Munster must be up the road, thought Eoin, I’d have heard Dylan before now. He, Killian and Charlie looked for a bench together and sat down across from a bunch of players from Ulster.
‘Hiya guys, howya doin’?’ asked one. ‘We’re in a different group to you boys, aren’t we? We might get you in the final though – that would be some crack!’
He introduced himself as Paddy O’Hare from Enniskillen and he was sitting with his pal Sam Rainey from Belfast.
‘When’s your first game?’ asked Killian.
‘We’re here since yesterday so our first game is in the morning against some Italian crowd,’ replied Sam. ‘You’ll be doing your training in the school here; the facilities are amazing. The matches are down in a small ground near Twickenham Stadium, called the Stoop.’
‘Drop down if you can, we’re starting at half eleven,’ said Paddy. ‘They’ll probably bring you on a tour of Twickers after training so you might catch the second half.’
The Ulster boys got up to go and Eoin wished them well in their game. They devoured their meal – Charlie went up for seconds – before taking a stroll around the school grounds. They sat down on a bench outside the cricket pavilion.
‘What do you think of Ted’s idea that we shouldn’t be too worried about winning?’ asked Killian.
‘I can see why he’s doing it,’ Eoin replied. ‘We hardly know each other and can’t be expected to perform like a team in such a short time – but I still think it’s a rubbish way to go into a tournament. We have the best guys in Leinster here, they don’t need to have the pressure taken off them – they need it on!’
‘Yeah, and you want them all to do their best at all times,’ said Killian. ‘Ted is just giving anyone who doesn’t want to put the work in a chance to cop out.’
Eoin agreed, and they continued to pick holes in the coach’s approach to the competition.
‘That’s very interesting,’ came a voice from behind them, as Ted stepped out of the shadows under the pavilion awning where he had been getting some quiet time to listen to some music. ‘I’m looking forward to you guys proving me wrong. Good night, Mr Madden, Mr Nicholson and Mr Johnston,’ he added before strolling away.
‘Oh, no! Me and my big mouth,’ said Killian.
‘You weren’t too bad,’ grinned Eoin, nervously. ‘I just called the head coach of the Leinster Academy “rubbish”.’
CHAPTER 19
Ted didn’t seem to hold Eoin’s insult against him next morning when the two Leinster sides faced off against each other on the practice pitch. He dropped a few words of praise when Eoin did anything good and grinned with delight when he kicked a conversion from the touchline.
‘That’s a very well-sharpened skill, Eoin,’ he said. ‘You obviously practise your goal-kicking very hard.’
Eoin nodded. ‘Yeah, we have a GAA pitch near my home so I practise there.
‘Ah,’ said Ted. ‘The narrower posts are obviously a good way of improving your accuracy. Keep working on that, it’s a hugely important part of the game.’
When training was over the boys were walked the few hundred metres to the stadium where so many epic games of rugby had been staged, including the dramatic World Cup final they had all watched in 2015. There was a tour guide to greet them and give them a quick run through the history of the ground.
She showed them around the stadium, bringing them into some areas that the public never usually got to see. She also brought them into the main dressing rooms. ‘This is where you’ll be sitting if you get to the final of this competition,’ she smiled. ‘We always hold the final here, just to give youngsters a taste of what it is like to play in an international stadium. For some players it is the best day of their lives.’
At the back of the group Eoin smiled at Charlie. They had already played three times in the best stadium in the world – the Aviva Stadium back in Dublin.
Next stop was the museum, where the guide let them run loose for half an hour.
‘Alan would love this,’ said Charlie, staring at the cases packed with caps, shirts and programmes from days gone by, as Eoin went off to see if he could find an exhibit that mentioned his pal Dave Gallaher, who he had met in a previous adventure.
The boys met up again at an area where they could test their skills in passing, scrummaging and kicking. Eoin aced the kicking test, to the delight of his teammates, while Killian scored highly on the speed exercises.
As Eoin wandered towards the exit he spotted something in one of the cases that made the back of his neck tingle. There was a black and white video running showing an old England player scoring an amazing try against New Zealand, but what caught Eoin’s eye was the very last frame when the player turned towards the camera. He had seen that face before.
He waited for the little film to start again, but the guide called out for the Leinster squad to join her at the entrance immediately; Eoin delayed as long as he could, but there was still no clue as to who the try-scorer was by the time he was the last boy in the room and the subject of irritated waving by the guide.
‘Sorry, Miss,’ said Eoin, ‘it was really interesting…’
‘You will have plenty of time to come back here during the week, I’m sure,’ she replied. ‘Just show your tournament badge and admission will be free.’
The guide showed the boys down towards the pitch but they were told they couldn’t even step on it today. ‘When you are here to play in the final I’ll let you on,’ she smiled. ‘Now, to finish, I’m going to take you up to a restaurant where we have some lunch for you, and you can watch a DVD of the World Cup final. Follow me, and if you get lost follow the signs for Obolensky’s.’
‘
That’s a weird name for a restaurant,’ said Páidí, as they trailed along behind the lady.
‘He was a famous old England player,’ she explained. ‘All the other restaurants are called after England captains like Carling and Wakefield, but Obolensky wasn’t a captain, just a very special player.’
‘It’s a funny name,’ said Killian. ‘Was he from England?’
‘No,’ replied the coach. ‘He lived here for most of his life, but his family came from Eastern Europe during the First World War. There’s lots about him in the museum if you want to come back and learn more.’
They arrived at the restaurant and marvelled at the array of snacks and tasty bites that had been laid out for their consumption. Eoin nibbled at a few, but wasn’t particularly hungry. He gazed out the enormous windows down onto the pitch below and wondered would he ever get the chance to play there.
‘I’ve had enough,’ he told his pals. ‘I’m going to head down to the car park to get some air. See you when you’re ready.’
He wandered out of the restaurant and down the corridor from which they had come. He must have missed a turn however, as he was soon lost. Turning the next corner, he came to a dead end just as a man was coming out of one of the doorways.
‘Are you all right, Sonny Jim?’ he asked.
Eoin stopped dead and stared at the man. It was a bit odd that he was wearing an England shirt and shorts, but Eoin was transfixed by what he was seeing above the neckline. It was the same face he had seen on the landing in the Lubov house in Ormondstown, and in the photograph he had found there.
‘You… you’re… Well, who exactly are you?’ he spluttered.
The man grinned mysteriously. ‘Oh, I’m just an old rugby player who hangs around here. My name is Alexei, but you can call me Alex. Alex Obolensky.’
CHAPTER 20
Eoin stared closely at the young man. ‘You’re a ghost, aren’t you?’ he asked.
Alexei stared back. ‘That’s an extraordinary question. Why do you ask it?’
‘Because I’ve seen you before. In an old house in Ireland. You waved at me. Twice.’
Alex’s mouth fell open. ‘What, at Uncle Nick’s house? Who are you? What were you doing there? What are you doing here? Did you follow me? Were you looking for the treasure too?’
‘Hang on, hang on,’ said Eoin. ‘I most certainly didn’t follow you. I’m here to play rugby for the Leinster Academy Under-15 team. We are in a tournament down in the Stoop Ground and came up here for a tour of the stadium. I just got lost and that’s why I bumped into you.’
Alex eyed him suspiciously. ‘And how can you see me? I’ve been around here for many years and almost nobody has disturbed me. I came across a journalist in the press box late one night – he must have been slow finishing in his work – and he recognised me. He wrote a story called ‘Obolensky’s Ghost Haunts Twickenham’ which caused me no end of trouble. I didn’t get a minute’s peace for months after that, but nobody else has ever noticed me.’
‘I seem to have a knack,’ sighed Eoin. ‘I’ve met four ghosts in Dublin over the last couple of years. And what’s this about treasure?’
Obolensky stopped and looked over Eoin’s shoulder, from where he could hear voices. Eoin popped his head around the corner to see two groundsmen discussing their work.
‘Hey, what are you doing here, son? This isn’t a public area,’ one of them called.
‘Sorry, I just got lost. Which way is the car park?’ asked Eoin.
The men showed him the way out, but when Eoin turned to look at where Alex had been standing, he was no longer to be seen.
He arrived down in the car park a little rattled by his encounter with Alex. He stared up at the modern stadium and tried to imagine what it was like when the ghost had played there. He decided to revisit the museum when he got a chance.
Killian, Charlie and Páidí arrived down soon afterwards, with Charlie’s bulging pockets hinting that he had organised an unofficial doggy bag for himself. They asked one of the coaches’ permission to go to watch the Ulster game and after crossing a footbridge they strolled down through rows of houses to the ground.
They arrived in time to see Sam kicking the ball over the crossbar and were impressed to see that he had just increased Ulster’s lead over the Italian side to a whopping 33 points.
‘These guys don’t look as bad as the scoreline makes them out to be,’ said Killian. ‘Ulster must be a pretty good side.’
The Stoop was a compact stadium, with plenty of room for maybe 15,000 people more than the handful that were watching the game today. Eoin studied the goalposts and where they were situated. He wondered how the wind might affect his goal-kicking, and whether the grandstands were high enough to shield his kicks. He watched closely while the players were taking shots at goal.
But he found it hard to concentrate on the game, and his mind kept returning to the encounter with Alex. It was a strange coincidence and very puzzling – and why had Alex accused him of wanting ‘treasure’? He really wanted to talk to Alan and Dylan about this, but one was back home in Dublin and the other was somewhere else in this huge city.
The final whistle was sounded with Ulster’s victory margin over 50 points. He waved to Sam and Paddy as they came off and followed Killian down the steps as they made for the exit.
‘Hey, Madden, are you not staying for the big game?’ came a roar from just outside the players’ tunnel. Eoin grinned down at Dylan, wearing his red shirt, and gave him a wave back. ‘I suppose I’ll have to, now you spotted me trying to sneak out,’ he called. His other friends were just as happy to stay and watch Eoin’s pal make his debut for his beloved province.
The Leinster players stretched themselves out on the nice seats in the committee box and enjoyed tossing friendly insults at the Munster team. Eoin kept quiet while this went on, still uncomfortable with the idea that Munster were the enemy.
Dylan’s team were taking on Glasgow and it was a hard, close game. Roger Savage, who had been at school with Eoin in Ormondstown, was sent off for fighting with the Scottish club’s second row but Munster were still two points ahead when the final whistle came.
Eoin made his way down to the advertising hoardings that surrounded the ground and called Dylan over. ‘Well played, bud, it’s great to get started with a win,’ he told his friend.
‘Yeah, it was a tough game, though,’ said Dylan, showing Eoin the bruises which were starting to come up on his rib cage. ‘Where are you guys staying?’
Eoin explained about the posh school and then looked around behind him to check no one was in earshot.
‘Listen, Dyl, it happened again – I’ve seen a ghost. The same lad we saw in the haunted house back home. He’s here, up in the main stadium!’
Dylan was stunned, and also checked behind him for eavesdroppers.
‘What are you going to do? Can we go back and see him again?’
‘I don’t know. I have a team meeting later and Leinster’s first match is in the morning. Let’s leave it till tomorrow afternoon. We can take a look around that museum and see if we can find out more about this Alexei Obolensky.’
CHAPTER 21
The Leinster team had a good run out the next day against Bath, winning 19-10. There were players and coaches from all the Irish provinces at the Stoop and they were delighted that all four now had started the tournament with a victory.
Eoin and his pals had sat out the game, and most of the other teams were adopting a similar policy. ‘I suppose they’ll pick the best players from the two Leinster teams if we get to the semi-final,’ said Charlie.
‘You’re probably right,’ said Eoin. ‘They can’t really do it any other way. I doubt if I’ll be picked after calling Ted “rubbish” though.’
The coach took Eoin’s team for a run around the Stoop and a chat about tactics. As they were leaving he tossed a ball to Eoin. ‘You’ll need some serious practice here to get the lines right. Nicholson, Reeves, can you stay and collect the balls f
or him?’
Killian and Páidí didn’t mind helping out, and Eoin fired over dozens of kicks before the teams for the next game started their warm-ups and he had to get out of the way. He was happy that Ted had suggested the session, as there was a definite tug on the ball from one corner of the ground and he needed to adjust his kicking line.
The boys strolled back up to the main Twickenham Stadium, where they met Dylan. The others wanted to go back to the school so made their farewells, but Eoin and Dylan went for a sandwich in one of the cafés around the ground.
They chatted about the places where they were staying, and who they had met. Dylan had got very friendly with the Connacht boys, who were the most popular in the school they were billeted. Then their conversation moved back to the ghost Eoin had met.
‘Tell me about this Hopalongski fella,’ Dylan asked.
‘Obolensky,’ said Eoin, slowly. ‘He’s a Russian lad, I think, which was why he was down in Tipperary. He said the house belonged to his Uncle Nick.’
Dylan nodded at Eoin, still stunned by what he was hearing.
‘He must be some sort of rugby legend though because the restaurant we were in yesterday is called Obolensky’s,’ Eoin went on. ‘I didn’t get a chance to ask him about that, though.’
‘I suppose we could find out more in the museum,’ suggested Dylan.
‘Yeah, I reckoned that. We’ll head there after this,’ said Eoin. ‘He asked me something about a treasure as well. He seemed a bit annoyed because he thought that I was looking for it too, but I hadn’t a clue what he was on about. If it was in the Lubov mansion it was probably stolen years ago – or very well hidden.’
The boys finished their lunch and walked around to the World Rugby Museum. They flashed their tournament player badges and were delighted to be waved through free of charge. Eoin walked straight to the display he had been looking at the day before.
‘That’s him,’ he told Dylan as he pointed to the video screen showing Alex scoring a try. They watched as he collected the ball ten metres inside his own half and cut between two All Blacks. Alex then ran wide onto the right hand touch-line to avoid the covering players, but he was so quick that he was able to cut back inside again and sprint to score close to the posts. It was a sensational try, and Eoin could see why they were still talking about it eighty years later.
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