had a great time,’ blurted out his friend. ‘We’re entered in a competition too, and we’re off to England in a couple of weeks.’
‘Fantastic,’ said Eoin. ‘Me too! Where is this competition that you guys are in?’
Dylan laughed at him, ‘Sure where else would it be except Twickenham?’
‘I don’t believe it, Leinster are going there too – and I’m in the squad.’
The pair headed out the door and spent the next hour swopping stories about their weekend. The structure in Limerick was similar to that which Eoin had experienced in Dublin, and they realised that the whole set-up must have been organised by the IRFU.
‘I suppose they were probably doing the same in Connacht and Ulster too,’ said Dylan.
‘I wonder will they have teams in England too?’
They got their answer three days later when they both got letters from their provinces giving details of the trip and where and when to meet up for it. The teams were entered into a European competition for Under-15 players and all four Irish provinces would be taking part.
‘We’ll be playing nearly every day,’ said Eoin. ‘That’swhy they are bringing such a large squad.’
‘Munster have to play Harlequins, Glasgow and Toulon – that’s a brutal draw,’ said Dylan.
‘Sure how can you tell what the Under-15s are like in any club?’ asked Eoin. ‘Just because the adult side is strong doesn’t mean the kids will be.’
Dylan nodded. ‘I suppose you’re right. Who did the Leinsters get?’
‘Racing 92, Bath and Cardiff. I haven’t a clue what they’ll be like.’
‘If we get to the semi-final we could play you,’ said Dylan. ‘That would be deadly!’
‘Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves there,’ said Eoin. ‘Our team have never even played together before. I think there’s a plan to get a game in before we travel.’
‘We better step up the training programme then,’ said Dylan. ‘But I can’t show you any of the secret moves they gave us.’
‘Listen, Dyl, secret moves or not, I’ve enough in my own head from this weekend to keep me in headaches for a month. I’ll say nothing.’
The boys kicked a football around for a while but took an early lunch.
‘Fancy heading up to that haunted house?’ asked Dylan.
‘I suppose so. Let’s bring a torch this time and make sure you don’t scarper at the first sign of anything spooky.’
A few minutes later the boys were at the gates of the old Lubov mansion. They took their time exploring the outside of the house, checking around the back where the doors and windows were all boarded over and the pathways overgrown. Eoin had brought the photograph with him, intending to return it to where it had lain on the mantelpiece.
They clambered through the loose planks in the front door, and although it was bright inside, Dylan still switched on the torch to explore the dark corners of the rooms.
‘We’ve been around the ground floor already,’ he muttered, ‘Let’s take a look upstairs. You go first.’
The boys climbed the wide staircase, which had once been lined with paintings. Now the carpet crunched underfoot with broken pieces of plaster and dead insects.
As they reached the landing where Eoin had seen the ghostly figure some weeks before, they stopped and looked around. There was no sign of anyone thistime. They checked all the rooms and were stunned by how beautiful they still looked after years of neglect and decay. There was little evidence of the lives of the previous owners, except in the very last room they checked, which looked like it had once been a child’s bedroom.
The remains of the wallpaper showed scenes from classic fairy tales such as Peter and the Wolf, and Eoin studied the pictures carefully. Scrawled on the wall in a tiny, thin script was a confusing word. Part of it looked English but there were other strange letters he had never seen before.
Алексе́й
‘That must be Russian,’ said Dylan. ‘My Auntie sent me a
‘Fantastic,’ said Eoin. ‘Me too! Where is this competition that you guys are in?’
Dylan laughed at him, ‘Sure where else would it be except Twickenham?’
‘I don’t believe it, Leinster are going there too – and I’m in the squad.’
The pair headed out the door and spent the next hour swopping stories about their weekend. The structure in Limerick was similar to that which Eoin had experienced in Dublin, and they realised that the whole set-up must have been organised by the IRFU.
‘I suppose they were probably doing the same in Connacht and Ulster too,’ said Dylan.
‘I wonder will they have teams in England too?’
They got their answer three days later when they both got letters from their provinces giving details of the trip and where and when to meet up for it. The teams were entered into a European competition for Under-15 players and all four Irish provinces would be taking part.
‘We’ll be playing nearly every day,’ said Eoin. ‘That’swhy they are bringing such a large squad.’
‘Munster have to play Harlequins, Glasgow and Toulon – that’s a brutal draw,’ said Dylan.
‘Sure how can you tell what the Under-15s are like in any club?’ asked Eoin. ‘Just because the adult side is strong doesn’t mean the kids will be.’
Dylan nodded. ‘I suppose you’re right. Who did the Leinsters get?’
‘Racing 92, Bath and Cardiff. I haven’t a clue what they’ll be like.’
‘If we get to the semi-final we could play you,’ said Dylan. ‘That would be deadly!’
‘Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves there,’ said Eoin. ‘Our team have never even played together before. I think there’s a plan to get a game in before we travel.’
‘We better step up the training programme then,’ said Dylan. ‘But I can’t show you any of the secret moves they gave us.’
‘Listen, Dyl, secret moves or not, I’ve enough in my own head from this weekend to keep me in headaches for a month. I’ll say nothing.’
The boys kicked a football around for a while but took an early lunch.
‘Fancy heading up to that haunted house?’ asked Dylan.
‘I suppose so. Let’s bring a torch this time and make sure you don’t scarper at the first sign of anything spooky.’
A few minutes later the boys were at the gates of the old Lubov mansion. They took their time exploring the outside of the house, checking around the back where the doors and windows were all boarded over and the pathways overgrown. Eoin had brought the photograph with him, intending to return it to where it had lain on the mantelpiece.
They clambered through the loose planks in the front door, and although it was bright inside, Dylan still switched on the torch to explore the dark corners of the rooms.
‘We’ve been around the ground floor already,’ he muttered, ‘Let’s take a look upstairs. You go first.’
The boys climbed the wide staircase, which had once been lined with paintings. Now the carpet crunched underfoot with broken pieces of plaster and dead insects.
As they reached the landing where Eoin had seen the ghostly figure some weeks before, they stopped and looked around. There was no sign of anyone thistime. They checked all the rooms and were stunned by how beautiful they still looked after years of neglect and decay. There was little evidence of the lives of the previous owners, except in the very last room they checked, which looked like it had once been a child’s bedroom.
The remains of the wallpaper showed scenes from classic fairy tales such as Peter and the Wolf, and Eoin studied the pictures carefully. Scrawled on the wall in a tiny, thin script was a confusing word. Part of it looked English but there were other strange letters he had never seen before.
Алексе́й
‘That must be Russian,’ said Dylan. ‘My Auntie sent me a
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