Sean met Debbie at the airport. It was her first time in Ireland, and she was very excited.

"You've told me so much about Ireland Sean, and here I am at last. I know I am going to enjoy my stay".

"You will Debbie, you will. We only have to pick up the car, and we’re off".

"We are booked into an old country mansion for the first night.It's called Petrotski Hall,

I came across it on the internet. It sounds very romantic, and it's nicely out of the way".

"I booked us in as Mr and Mrs Sean Casey. I hope you don't mind?".

"That's wonderful Sean, afterall I will be your real wife in six months time".

"This Petrotski Hall though, it does'nt sound very Irish to me?"..

"No Debs. It's called after Baron Petrotski who came here from eastern europe way back in the early eighteen hundreds".

"Apparently, he was closely related to the Tsars of Russia you know".

"Although, I do believe he had to leave that area in mysterious circumstances?".

"Anyway, he took over an old British army officers building down in Co Wicklow. He gradually renovated it , and added another wing on to it.Hence, it became known as Petrotski Hall".

"It appears his wife was the driving force in the family. She apparently controlled him, only for that, it is said, they would have nothing?".

"Rumour has it that she was a very big woman, six foot two, with very broad shoulders.

I believe she was an aunt of Rasputin, the mad monk?".

"Rasputin, actually came to stay with them occasionally, when he was a young man. and indeed cavorted freely with the local girls".

"The whole story sounds quite mysterious Sean. I can't wait to get there".

Sean drove the car down through Blessington and carried on till he was about three miles past Baltinglas.

Debbie remarked how beautiful the countryside was, it reminded her of her native Yorkshire. She felt very much at home here. Eventually, they turned into a narrow roadway on the left. The sign, with a brown background read, Petrotski Hall three kilometres.

"This does'nt look very encouraging Sean, there's grass growing in the middle of the road?".

"I was just thinking the same thing myself?, Debs. Maybe this is the back way into the place".

Sean began to feel a bit uneasy, he did'nt think Petrotski Hall would be so remote. Nevertheless he did'nt want to alarm Debbie. So he switched the radio on to a music channel.

Finally, they came to a pair of big wrought iron gates. They were set in a huge walled entrance, with an archway overhead. The gates were slowly opened by a man who was very unusually dressed for the present day. He was wearing a tall black hat, with a very wide brim. The black cape he was wearing, seemed to flutter in the breeze, and his shoes had large shiny buckles. He gestured with his hand fror the car to stop.

Sean wound down the window. The man came very close as he looked in the car. His thick bushy eyebrows stood out, as did that moustache, with it's waxed pointed ends.

"Is there a Miss Deborah Hollinshead on board this vehicle?", he asked sharply.

 "That's me?", said Debbie.

 "You may go ahead madam. You are expected?". He replied.

"Good lord Debbie?, how did he know your name?. I did'nt say it when I booked, and how come he did'nt mention me at all?".

"Oh Sean!. All this is gettin creepy, and look at all those trees overhanging the drive?. Look!. There's the house up ahead, it's all covered in ivy. This is like something out of a Steven King book?".

A man servant met them at the door. He was very smartly dressed, with black shoulder length hair and a neat beard. He had piercing blue eyes that seemed to burn into Debbie as she looked at him. She was frightened, yet she seemed drawn to him. She felt he would look a bit like Sean if he did'nt have the long hair and beard.

The man servant did'nt speak, he just picked up the cases and started walking. They followed him up an ever so wide winding staircase and along a long corridor. There was a huge mirror on the very far end of the corridor, which gave the illusion that the corridor was endless. Sean could see himself and Debbie quite clearly in the mirror as they approached it, but then his heart jumped. He could see the two cases travelling in front of them as if they were floating on their own. Oh my God!. Thought Sean. Am I seeing things.The manservant is invisible in the mirror. The hair stood on Sean's head, he'd never seen anything like this before. Sean did'nt say a thing to Debbie, he was just thankful she had'nt noticed.

Debbie admired the huge four poster bed in the room, and all the antique Louis the Fourteenth style furniture. She could feel a certain warmth and homeliness.

"How romantic", She said. "Is’nt it so luxurious".

Sean could'nt enthuse at all about what Debbie was saying. His head was in a trance. Did he really see what he saw, or was it just his imagination.

"Come on Debbie, don't unpack yet, lets go down and see if there is a bar.

I need a drink badly".

They went down the stairs again, and looked this way and that way. There did’nt seem to be anyone about. They passed a door with gamesroom written on it. Suddenly, they heard this sound, it went THWACK, and then they could hear the clicking of snooker balls clashing off each other.

"Someones playing snooker in there Deb's?, life at last!".

They went in. The snooker balls were still cascading to and fro across the table.Yet, to their dismay there was no one in the room. How could this be. Someone's played a shot at snooker, but there's no one in the room. They had a good look around. All the board games were piled neatly on the sideboard. There was also a huge roaring fire on, with two very comfortable armchairs in front of it. On the mantlepiece was a bottle of vodka with about twenty small goblets circled around it. Sean was thinking, somethings not quite right here, as he absent mindedly sat into one of the chairs. Debbie followed suit , and sat in the other one. Then as if on cue, in walked the manservant. He was carrying a tray with a bottle of red wine and two glasses, which he placed on a small table between them. Without saying a word, he poured them a glass each. He then put the triangle on the snooker table and started to reset the balls. Sean and Debbie looked at each other as they sipped the wine, which seemed very potent to them. Sean in particular could feel a sense of euphoria coming over him.

Suddenly, another person came into the room. It was a very tall woman with broad shoulders. She stood with her arms folded, as if she was waiting for someone. The manservant approached Sean and handed him a snooker cue. He then took out a coin and tossed it in the air, catching it on the back of his hand.

"Heads", said Sean instinctively, as he was now in a devil may care mood.

Heads it was, and Sean got up and got ready to break. Sean was in his element now, as snooker was his favourite game.

It was then that the tall woman spoke. She turned to Debbie and said.

"Come on my dear, it's time to get ready?".

Debbie was very excited about this, even though she did'nt know what she was getting ready for. She casually waved at Sean as she left the room with the woman. Sean hardly noticed, he was too engrossed in the game.

Sean was a fairly good snooker player in his own rite, but it turned out he was no match for this fellow. Yes. This fellow was world class, and put in shots that Sean had never seen before. After defeating Sean the manservant very sportingly shook hands with him. Then he went over to the mantlepiece and filled two goblets with vodka.

He handed one to Sean. Then without hesitation he threw his one straight back and threw the empty glass into the fire with force. Sean felt this was path for the course and threw his drink back as well. He also threw his glass in the fire. This procedure took place three times in all, by which time Sean was reeling. The manservant then hugged Sean and kissed him on both cheeks in that continental style. He then left the room.

Sean flopped into the chair, he was exhausted. He could feel sleep approaching him rapidly. Yet, even though he was in this non caring mood, he knew he'd been had, and as his eyes began to close, he thought. What have I done.

I’ve sold my future wife for a game of snooker, and there is’nt a thing I can do about it.

G Lyster 15-04-09.