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come?’
    ‘No, I’m whacked,’ said Alan. ‘I’m going to crash out on my bed.’
    Eoin jogged over to the main building, and slipped into the school library, which was on the ground floor beside Mr McCaffrey’s office.
    Besides the librarian, a retired English teacher called Mr McDonagh, he was alone.
    ‘Can I help you?’ the librarian asked.
    ‘Yes, sir,’ replied Eoin. ‘I’m looking for a book called
The Complete Rugby Footballer
. It’s by an old guy who played for New Zealand. I can’t remember his name, sorry.’
    ‘Hmmm, that’s interesting. We have a lot of books about rugby, but I’m not sure I’ve heard of that one. Let me check the catalogue.’
    The grey-haired man thumbed his way through a big box full of small white cards. After some minutes, hepulled one out.
    ‘Yes, here it is.
The Complete Rugby Footballer
by D. Gallaher and W.J. Stead. Gosh, published in 1906! I hope it’s not too fragile to read,’ he murmured. ‘Follow me …’
    The librarian took off towards the far corner of the library, where a dusty cabinet with a glass-panelled front stood. He selected a small key from an enormous bunch and opened the door with a creak. He reached inside and carefully lifted down a thick, brown book which he handed to Eoin.
    ‘Take good care of that, young man, I doubt it has been looked at in a hundred years. It is not available to borrow, I’m afraid, so you will have to read it here. And as I’m closing up in ten minutes you had better be quick.’
    Eoin sat down at a desk and examined the cover of the book. The title and names of the authors were picked out in gold and Eoin had to wipe a layer of dust off the spine before he opened it.
    He examined a photograph on the first page, a side shot of a grinning rugby player holding a ball. Opposite was the title again, and above it a message written neatly in ink. Eoin read it, and suddenly shivered as if someone had opened a window and an icy blast of wind had blown through the old room.
    There, in the top corner, were written the words ‘B.F. Hanrahan, from Charlie, Christmas 1927’.
    Eoin stared wide-eyed at the page, and looked up to where the librarian was busy tidying away some volumes.
    ‘Brian …’ he started, ‘But how …’
    ‘I was wondering that myself,’ came a whisper behind him.
    Eoin turned quickly, and there leaning against a bookcase was a pale young man dressed in black, red and yellow hooped rugby kit.
    ‘Brian!’ he gasped, at which the librarian looked up.
    ‘Are you all right, young man?’ he asked. ‘You must keep quiet, even if there are no other readers about.’
    ‘I’m sorry,’ said Eoin. ‘I just got a bit of a surprise.’
    ‘
Surprise
? Huh, it didn’t seem like that sort of book,’ grumped the librarian.
    Eoin put his head down, and whispered out of the side of his mouth, ‘How did you get here? Where have you been?’
    ‘I’m not sure how I got here,’ said Brian. ‘It must have been that book. Maybe it works like Aladdin’s lamp? I got that book from my brother on the last Christmas Day I was alive.
    ‘I was really interested in the All Blacks and the way they changed the game. I had seen them play Ireland inLansdowne Road a year or two before and they were very impressive.
    ‘I remember after I died that my brothers packed up all my belongings and sold off what they didn’t want as keepsakes. They raised enough to buy a trophy which they donated to the club for best young player, or something of that order. Someone in the school must have bought that book and it ended up here after that …’
    ‘Time’s up!’ came the call from the librarian. ‘I’m open again tomorrow after school if you need to consult the book again. I’ll keep it here under the counter for you.’
    Eoin stood and turned to say goodbye to Brian, but the ghost had already departed.

CHAPTER 13
    T he Under-14 trials were very well attended – even some of the boys who hadn’t played rugby the year