‘Frogmen? Of course! There’s a river runs down that side of that ground isn’t there,’ said Dixie.
‘Ah “Sweet Swanwater”, as the writer put it,’ grinned Mr Finn.
‘Yes, but there’s more than that,’ replied Eoin, telling them about what he had found in the book.
They were still chatting when Paddy and Sam called over to say hello.
‘Were you thrilled with Eoin being the hero of the hour, Mr Madden?’ Sam asked.
‘Well, him and the ghosts, really,’ laughed Paddy.
Eoin went red again.
‘What ghosts are you talking about?’ asked Dixie.
‘Och, loads of them. Eoin’s a total magnet for rugby-playing ghosts,’ Paddy replied.
Dixie’s eyes widened as Eoin stared at his feet.
‘You’ve never mentioned this to us before,’ said Mr Finn. ‘Is that true?’
Eoin jumped to his feet.
‘OK, look, I’m a bit wrecked by all this. I need to have a shower and change, and maybe a nap. How about we all meet down here for dinner at, say, 8.30?’
And with that he shot out of the lobby and took the stairs two at a time up to his bedroom – on the seventh floor.
He lay on his bed, still sweating, annoyed that Paddy’s big mouth had revealed his biggest secret. He didn’t blame his friend, but he would now have a lot of explaining to do.
A knock at the door revealed Alan, who scampered into the room bubbling with delight at the Irish victory.
‘That was a brilliant win,’ he gurgled, ‘and what a try!’
Eoin smiled, having almost forgotten his moment of glory.
‘I did up a final table for you as a, you know, souvenir.’
Written neatly on a page of his copy book was the table:
Played Won Lost Tries Diff. Points
Ireland 3 3 0 8 +50 12
England 3 2 1 11 +31 8
Scotland 3 1 2 6 -5 4
Wales 3 0 3 5 -76 0
Eoin smiled again. ‘I will treasure this Alan, it might even turn out to be the last Ireland win at Aviva Stadium!’
Alan laughed. ‘It’s not that bad – is it?’
‘I don’t know,’ Eoin replied. ‘It looks like a big job, and tricky too. I’d say they will struggle to fix it in time for the Six Nations game against England.’
Chapter 35
Eoin showered and got dressed as Alan watched the TV coverage of the Aviva evacuation. The reporter still hadn’t found out what had happened, but spoke in a grave voice as he described how all the people who lived in the houses backing onto the stadium had now left for their own safety, and roadblocks were also in place all around the area.
‘Whatever has caused the Gardaí to clear the ground has apparently come about because of a discovery by one of the Ireland Under 16 team that had just won the deciding game in the Four Nations tournament,’ the TV reporter said, before cutting to some video recorded earlier. Eoin was amused, then appalled, when he saw it was Rory on the screen.
‘Yeah, it was a guy from our school Castlerock,’ grinned the scrum-half, who turned to the camera to say, ‘Shout out to all the guys in third year!’
‘And who was this hero?’ asked the reporter.
‘Eh, Eoin of course,’ Rory replied. ‘He’s the guy who rescued the World Cup last year and won the Four Nations for us today too. He’s a bit of a superhero to be honest. Eoin. Eoin Madden.’
The blood drained from Eoin’s face as Alan roared with laughter.
‘What has he done?’ moaned Eoin. ‘I was hoping to keep out of the limelight for a while but now he’s gone and blurted my name out on live TV and I’ll be in every newspaper in the world tomorrow. I’ll never be able to leave this room.’
Alan put his hand on his shoulder in sympathy, but still kept the grin on his face.
‘Mr McCaffrey will be delighted at the positive publicity for the school, I suppose…’
‘Oh no, that reminds me – we have that Junior Cup semi-final first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll be in no state to play.’
The phone rang beside his bed. ‘This is Hughie O’Farrell, Irish Mail newspaper,’ came the voice. ‘Is that Eoin Madden?’
Eoin’s throat dried up. ‘Yes… but I can’t talk right now,’ he replied, and hung up immediately.
The phone rang again. ‘Tom Clifford, Irish Examiner…’ was all Eoin heard before he clicked the button on the receiver.
He rang down to reception. ‘Hi, this is Eoin in room 707, can you hold all calls for me please.’
He sat back down on the bed.
‘Oh, Alan, what am I going to do? I need to go down to meet my folks for dinner but I’ll be swamped.’
‘Leave that with me,’ his pal grinned. ‘I have an idea – it’s something I saw in a movie once.’
He gave Eoin his New York Yankees baseball cap and checked that he wasn’t wearing any rugby kit.
Alan then slipped on one of Eoin’s Ireland training jackets and left the room. ‘Hang back about thirty seconds,’ he ordered. ‘I’ll get them away from you. And use the stairs, not the lift. Wait on the first floor.’
Eoin watched as Alan walked down the corridor, pretending he was talking to someone on his phone.
‘Yeah, I’ve been talking to Eoin,’ he announced, loud enough for everyone to hear, especially the two men carrying notebooks who were standing outside the lift.
‘He sneaked out the back way five minutes ago,’ Alan continued into the mobile as he walked through the lift doors. ‘I’m going to meet him in the pizza restaurant at Baggot Street bridge. Join us if you can, but don’t say a word to any of those reporters or TV people.’
Eoin grinned as the reporters nipped into the lift just before the doors closed, and he headed down the staircase. He waited on the first floor where he was soon joined by Dixie.
‘Alan has taken those chaps on a wild goose chase,’ his grandfather chuckled. ‘Your parents are exhausted – as am I – but while they apologise for their absence, I am more interested in finding out about you and these ghosts. There’s a restaurant on this floor – hopefully they will find us a quiet corner.’
Chapter 36
The restaurant was almost deserted, but Dixie selected a table as far from the door as they could find, and told Eoin to sit with his back to the door. They ordered their meal and chatted about the game before Dixie changed the subject.
‘Now, Eoin, I was very interested to hear your story about the ghosts,’ he said once they had got settled. ‘I’d love to hear more, and be quite assured that I won’t think you are mad. I have even seen some myself…’
‘Really?’ asked Eoin. ‘For a long time I thought it was just me.’
‘Not at all,’ replied Dixie. ‘There have been tens of thousands of people who claim to have been visited by the dead. I know I have.’
Eoin cleared his throat and began. He explained how he had first come across a ghost in Lansdowne Road, the fallen rugby player Brian Hanrahan. Dixie said he remembered that name, and explained that he had once met Brian’s brother Charlie.
‘He was the president of the IRFU that came to visit me when I gave up the game after… well, you know.’
Dixie’s wife – Eoin’s grandmother – had been killed by a falling tree branch many years before while watching Dixie play rugby. He still found it hard to talk about it.
Eoin continued, explaining the various episodes and adventures he had got up to with Brian, Dave Gallaher, Kevin Barry, Alex Obolensky and William Webb-Ellis. Dixie nodded regularly, and smiled as the story unfolded and he realised all his grandson had been up to.
Their meals arrived and they began to eat. Neither spoke for two or three minutes.
‘I always wondered about that Fabergé egg thing,’ Dixie smiled. ‘The coincidence was too much, there had to be something else going on. You really have had some amazing experiences because you can see ghosts.’
‘Yes, I suppose so,’ smiled Eoin. ‘It’s been exciting at t
imes – and they’ve been really helpful with the rugby too.’
‘So, why do you think you are able to see ghosts?’ asked Dixie.
Eoin shrugged. ‘I really don’t know, Grandad. At times, it was objects that seemed to bring them to me – like Dave Gallaher’s book – but why it was me they decided to appear to I just don’t understand.’
‘I think I know,’ the old man smiled, before wiping some food from the corner of his mouth. He paused, weighing his words.
‘Eoin, you’re a sensitive lad, but by that I don’t mean you’re some sort of wimp. You always consider other people and their feelings before your own. That’s a very rare quality in a boy, or in anyone.’
Eoin looked down at his plate, embarrassed – as usual – at receiving a compliment.
‘But what has that got to do with the ghosts?’ he asked.
‘Well… you’re also an inquisitive lad, always looking to learn new things and open to new ideas. You’re a loyal, solid friend to all your pals, even when they fall out with you.
‘I think that there’s lots of ghosts out there – maybe everyone that dies has one. Most of them never communicate with the living, but some do if they’re restless, or if there’s something important that needs to be done, or they have some unfinished business.’
Eoin nodded, and took another bite of his pizza. His grandfather went on.
‘Look at Obolensky, or Webb-Ellis – they knew something was going on before it even happened. And Kevin Barry, he was desperate to find what happened to Eugene.’
‘But why me?’ asked Eoin.
‘Because you are just the sort of person I’d like to help me if I came back,’ he smiled. ‘Brian was obviously lonely floating around Lansdowne Road all those years, he saw in you a boy from Tipperary like himself who enjoyed sport and wouldn’t make a fuss. Through Brian you must have made a connection with all those other spirits – Dave was obviously delighted that someone was interested in his book after many years of it sitting there untouched. He saw a chance to do something nice for you too, and I suppose he liked the idea of keeping his memory alive.
‘I think once you made that connection to the ghostly world they saw you as a friendly, welcoming link to their old lives.’
Eoin swallowed his food and smiled.
‘I suppose that makes as much sense as anything,’ he replied.
‘Well, I think it’s a good explanation,’ chuckled Dixie. ‘I know your grandmother has come to visit me at important moments since she passed away. She is the reason why you came to Castlerock – I suppose she’s the reason why you’ve had all these adventures with ghosts and rugby.’
Eoin looked puzzled. ‘Why’s that, Grandad?’
Dixie sighed. ‘Well, I explained to you before how I gave up rugby when she died, and I wouldn’t let your dad play it either when he went to Castlerock.’
The old man took a sip from a glass of water and continued. ‘Well, when you were coming to the end of primary school, your dad told me that he and your mother had considered sending you to boarding school but they just couldn’t afford to.
‘I was just about to retire from the bank – and was getting a nice sum – so I could afford to help. But I didn’t want you to go away from Ormondstown… and I didn’t want you to play rugby.
‘Then one night your grandmother’s ghost came to visit me, bright and beautiful as the day we were married. We chatted about a few things, but she told me the main reason she had come back was to ask me to help Kevin with the cost of boarding at Castlerock. She had watched you grow and thought the school would be very good for you. And she told me to encourage you to play rugby, although it took me a bit of time to come around to that.’
Eoin sat, open-mouthed, as his grandfather continued his story.
‘I didn’t want to tell you about the money, but I couldn’t explain it all without letting you know. Anyway, the money wasn’t that important, it was just that I was so moved that your grandmother – your sad, long-dead grandmother – still cared about her grandson even though he wasn’t born till thirty years after she died.’
Chapter 37
Eoin smiled, and finished his glass of water. The two sat in silence for several minutes, comfortable that nothing more needed to be said.
Eoin eventually broke the silence by thanking Dixie for buying him dinner.
‘That was lovely – getting away from everyone especially,’ he grinned. ‘That’s given me a lot to think about, but I’m sure I won’t be doing any of that tonight – I’m only fit for sleep.’
‘I’m sorry if I heaped a lot on you,’ said Dixie, ‘but it might make things clearer for you too. Now off you go, you’ve earned your sleep.’
Eoin said goodbye and took the back stairs up to his room, dodging the reporters who had returned from their fruitless chase and were back hanging around the lifts. He slipped down the corridor and into his room without being seen.
Just inside the door he spotted a note folded in two had been slipped under. He stooped to pick it up. ‘Eoin. Meet me at breakfast 7.15 please,’ it read. ‘Lots to talk about. I’ll give you and the Castlerock guys a lift to your game. Neil.’
Eoin wondered what Neil could want, as his days as an Ireland Under 16 player were now over. He recalled their conversation after the stadium evacuation, and how interested the coach was in Paddy’s mention of ghosts. But before he could ponder any more, his eyelids drooped and he gave in to the losing battle with sleep.
Next morning, Eoin got up much earlier than he was used to. He dressed quietly, allowing Killian a few minutes more sleep before he woke him as he left.
‘I’m going for an early breakfast, Kill. I’ve a game this morning so I’ll be back to collect my gear. We leave here about nine.’
Eoin noticed there was no sign of the reporters at the lifts, so took the speedy way down to the ground floor. He put on a baseball cap and walked with his head down towards the dining room. He checked, but Neil had yet to arrive.
‘Room number, sir?’ asked the steward.
‘Eh, 707,’ replied Eoin.
‘This way,’ he said, handing him a newspaper.
As it was another matchday, Eoin ordered a light breakfast and waited for Neil to show. He checked out the other diners in case there was any unwanted attention before he picked up and unfolded the newspaper. To his horror, his face stared back at him in a grinning photo taken when he had collected his medal the day before.
‘SCHOOLBOY HERO SAVES STADIUM’, read the headline, which stretched across the full width of the front page.
Eoin almost gagged on his orange juice, and quickly turned the page face down.
Neil arrived, and looked at Eoin quizzically.
‘Are you OK, Eoin? You’re very pale…’
‘I just had a bit of a shock,’ replied Eoin, turning over the newspaper to reveal his face once more.
Neil laughed. ‘Oh my, that’s fantastic. You’re a real hero Eoin!’
Eoin frowned. ‘I’m not sure I want to be. And I definitely don’t want that sort of attention.’
The coach nodded, and apologised for laughing. ‘It’s just that you don’t often see rugby on the front pages, and certainly not schoolboy players – unless it’s for the wrong reasons. Don’t worry, the attention will die down quickly, although you’ll probably have to pose for a thousand selfies with the first years in school.’
A waiter brought Eoin’s breakfast to him, and Neil ordered his own.
‘Thanks for meeting me, Eoin, and thanks again for being such a brilliant player in the tournament. It’s the highlight of my rugby career – although I’m sure it won’t be the highlight of yours. ‘The reason I asked you down was to hear about these ghosts that Paddy was talking about.’
Eoin shrugged. ‘I don’t really know what to say. Paddy was winding you up I think.’
‘Are you sure?’ Neil replied. ‘I never mentioned it before, but I studied sports science in college and I did a lot of research into fatal
injuries in the early days of rugby – up to about a century or so ago.
‘I kept hearing stories about ghosts being seen at various grounds, but the most persistent story was about Lansdowne Road and a player who died there in 1928…’
‘Brian Hanrahan,’ blurted Eoin.
Neil’s eyes widened.
‘How did you know about him?’ he asked.
Eoin lowered his eyes, chewed his lip, and looked up again at Neil.
‘Because he’s the ghost I met. I’ve met him dozens of times.’
‘Really?’ said Neil, his face now turning white. ‘Well that’s extraordinary. Because he’s the main reason I chose that subject to study. I heard so much about him growing up, because… well, Brian is… Brian was… my great, great-uncle.’
Chapter 38
It was Eoin’s turn to look stunned, but the pair’s expressions soon turned to grins.
‘What a coincidence,’ laughed Neil.
‘Maybe not,’ suggested Eoin. ‘I’ve found that all the ghosts who appear to me have very good reasons for doing so.’
‘All the ghosts…?’ asked Neil.
Eoin sighed. ‘Please Neil, please don’t mention this to anyone else. I don’t want people to think I’m making up things, or that I’m a bit kooky.’
He explained quickly about the various ghosts and the reasons why they had appeared to him. Neil’s eyes widened as he listened, and he took a deep breath when Eoin finished his story.
‘That’s extraordinary, truly amazing,’ he started. ‘And yesterday was the first time you met Henry Dunlop?’
Eoin nodded. ‘He and Brian knew there was something up with the stadium. Brian called me over after the game and that’s when I found the cracks and the sinkhole.’
‘It’s lucky you did. Imagine if no one had noticed and the stadium was packed with over fifty thousand people for the England game next month? There could have been a huge disaster.’
Rugby Heroes Page 9
