Page 29 of Match Point

‘Why do they hate each other so much?’

Her eyes widen in shock at my question. ‘Come on, Flora! You must know the history between those two. Courtney is O’Sullivan’s nemesis.’

‘I didn’t think people actually had those.’

‘In sport they sometimes do,’ she says with a shrug. ‘They can’t stand one another. Look, I don’t think what Chris Courtney has said is in any way classy, but this could be a good thing in the run-up to Wimbledon. Kieran didn’t do badly at Halle – he reached the quarter-finals – and he’s still got some fight in him. I think he could take some of the youngsters if he really wanted to. He just needs a kick up the butt. Maybe this comment from Courtney will help ignite something in him again before he considers retirement. Maybe he’ll want to prove Courtney wrong.’

‘You think he’ll be that affected by something Chris Courtney says?’

‘Uh, yeah!’ She straightens, looking at me strangely. ‘Didn’t you hear what I said? Courtney is his enemy. On and off the court. Kieran’s ex-fiancée ended up marrying him.’

I pause, my glass halfway to my lips. ‘You what?’

‘Yeah, you must remember it. Kieran was dating this actress and they were engaged and everything. Then they broke up, she started dating Courtney and they got married soon after. It was a pretty big scandal at the time,’ she informs me.

‘Fuck. No wonder Kieran hates him.’ I take a gulp of my drink. ‘Now, I feel a bit sorry for him.’ Placing my glass down, I exhale, shaking my head. ‘I hope you’re right and Kieran does decide to prove him wrong on the court. He has been training a lot.’

‘Yeah?’ A sly smile creeps across Iris’s lips. ‘He’s looking in good shape, is he?’

I narrow my eyes at her. ‘Stop it. Don’t look at me like that.’

‘Like what?’ she asks innocently, before shooting me a mischievous grin.

‘Like that.’ I laugh.

‘What? Like it hasn’t crossed your mind.’ She arches her brow. ‘You’re living in the same flat, he’s unbelievably sexy, you’re unbelievably gorgeous, you’re both single… I’m just saying, it could happen. It would make a good anecdote at least.’

‘Jesus, Iris, a good anecdote,’ I repeat in disbelief, running a hand through my hair as my cheeks flush with heat. ‘It won’t happen. Firstly we can’t stand one another, and secondly, I’m hardly his type. He dates models and actresses, people who are in the public eye for a reason. I’m… unnoticeable.’

‘Oh shut up.’

‘You shut up.’

She grins at me. ‘He’s seen your underwear already, who knows what might happen next?’

‘You’re very annoying,’ I huff, staring at my drink as I fiddle with the stem of my glass, twisting it between my fingers.

It may have flitted across my mind once. Or twice. The possibility of it. But in a complete fantasy world where he’s actually a nice person to be around. I would be lying if I said that he wasn’t attractive, because look at him. He’s obviously beautiful, and I’ve seen him topless in a towel and you’d have to be dead not to wonder how it feels to run your hands up over the smooth curves of his arms and along his broad muscled shoulders. Anyone would want to know what that feels like.

That’s not my fault, that’s just… science.

Yeah. That makes sense.

‘You’re blushing, Flora,’ Iris remarks.

‘I’m blushing because of you and what you’re saying, nothing to do with him. Trust me, it’s really not like that between us.’

‘For now,’ she says, taking a triumphant sip of wine while I roll my eyes, relieved to see our food arriving, which provides the perfect opportunity to steer the conversation away from Kieran O’Sullivan.

*

That night, I wake up to the sound of someone trying to get in through the front door. I sit bolt upright at the loud thump, followed by the wiggling of the door handle. My heart in my throat, I swing my legs out of bed and freeze as someone shoves themselves against the door with some force. Jumping to my feet, I’m about to rush to bang on Kieran’s bedroom door and demand he get his tennis racket at the ready to threaten the intruder with, but I’m stopped by the repeated rings on the bell, followed by vigorous knocking and then the loud, slurred voice of Kieran himself coming from the other side.

‘Flora?’ he says through the letter box. ‘Helloooo. Anyone at home?’

After checking that it is him through the peephole, I quickly turn on the light and open the front door. He practically falls through, having been leaning against it. Stumbling past me into the hallway, he regains his balance and then bursts out laughing, slumping against the wall and knocking the mirror so that it swings dangerously.

‘Kieran!’ I gasp, steadying the mirror and then closing the front door. ‘What are you doing? What time is it?’

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