Page 70 of Match Point

He reaches out to wrap his fingers around my wrists and lower my hands from my face so I have no choice but to leave my cheeks on show for him to study, a small smile creeping across his lips as he does so.

‘No, it’s beautiful,’ he says softly. ‘Makes your freckles even more prominent.’

‘When I was younger, I used to try to cover my freckles.’

‘Why would you cover them? They’re…’ He trails off searching for the right word, knitting his eyebrows together in concentration. ‘They’re you. I like them.’

I smile bashfully, glancing over at the huddle of girls. ‘You’re making me go even redder for the cameras.’

‘Don’t think you’ve escaped my question, Flossie,’ he says, taking a small step back, his voice returning to a lighter, more playful tone. ‘Why did you make that face when I mentioned my PR team asking me to be more approachable?’

‘I wouldn’t fancy doing your PR that’s all.’

He quirks a brow. ‘Why not? I’m a great client.’

‘You skip press conferences, you refuse to do interviews no matter what journalists are saying about you, so you let their narrative stick, and you have moments of… embellished infuriation on court.’

He tips his head back and cackles with laughter, a sound that makes me light up from the very centre of my core. ‘Embellished infuriation! Now who’s the musical poet?’

‘I was trying to put it nicely!’

‘You may have a point. It can’t be easy for my publicists to turn embellished infuriation to my advantage in the eyes of the public,’ he says, his eyes drifting over my shoulder. His eyebrows shoot up and he leans in conspiratorially to me. ‘Although they may have it wrong about my approachability. Someone’s coming over to me now.’

As he fixes a polite smile on his face, I swivel on my stool to face the incoming fan and find myself face to face with—

‘Zoe!’ I exclaim, my stomach knotting in horror.

‘Hey, Flora,’ she says timidly, glancing from me to Kieran and back to me again, ‘I hope you don’t mind me interrupting.’ She beams up at Kieran. ‘I’m just such a huge fan and I keep seeing you at the flat. We’re bound to bump into one another eventually. I thought I’d take the opportunity to introduce myself.’

‘You know each other?’ Kieran says, his shoulders easing.

‘Zoe lives next door,’ I say in a strained voice, my face flushing with heat.

‘Oh, right, hi, Zoe. I’m so sorry about the reporters on the road,’ he begins, holding out his hand to shake hers warmly. ‘I hope they haven’t been bothering you too much.’

‘It’s no problem,’ she says with a breezy wave of her hand. ‘Congratulations on your win today. It was a fantastic match and you played so brilliantly.’ She gives him a winning smile, her eyes bright underneath her full fluttering eyelashes. ‘I’ve got tickets to Centre Court for the semi-finals. I have no doubt that I’ll be watching you play then.’

He smiles modestly, glancing down at his feet and back up to her again. ‘That’s very kind of you to say, Zoe, thank you.’

‘I… have to go to the bathroom,’ I croak, sliding off my stool and making my way through the bar to the loos. It’s getting very crowded in here now, as the rain grows heavier.

I glance back at Kieran and Zoe as I get to the door. They’re already engaged in a lively conversation. My heart sinking, I push the door open and lock myself in a cubicle, slumping down on the toilet and burying my face in my hands.

Of course he’s chatting easily to Zoe. She’s a lovely person to talk to, warm and inviting, with her sparkling pearly-white smile and striking eyes. Bet he’s noticed how good her figure is in that outfit too, her flawless skin and model figure on display in a burnt orange silk top and high-waisted white linen shorts. He’s always dated models and actresses and amazingly glamorous women who were born to stand out. Women like Zoe.

Not like me.

I can’t believe she waltzed over like that. Am I so small and insignificant that she thinks what she did doesn’t really matter? Does she think that it’s been a few months now, so we can shrug it off and pretend it didn’t happen? I’m not okay with that. I know there were two people in that bed and it was Jonah who was in the wrong. He’s the one who had the girlfriend, he’s the one who broke his promises. It’s not like she had any loyalty to me. Just because we’d had a few nice conversations didn’t mean we were friends. But it still really hurt to know that she didn’t insist Jonah break up with me first to spare me that betrayal. She willingly went along with it, in the full knowledge that I was being humiliated. She was part of the act that made me a fool.

For her to stroll up to us in a pub so brazenly fucking hurts.

I take a deep breath and remind myself how far I’ve come since January. She doesn’t need to matter to me. But Kieran does, and sitting here feeling sorry for myself in a toilet cubicle isn’t helping anyone. I can’t be so intimidated by her beauty and style that I physically exclude myself from my own date. I think it’s a date. He hasn’t explicitly said that, but he did hold my hand on the way here. That has to make it a date.

Making my way back through the pub, my heart sinks when I see Zoe is still there with Kieran. They’re playing darts together. Stopping a few metres away, I’m unable to approach any further. My feet won’t seem to move. I watch Zoe step up to the mark at Kieran’s encouragement, take aim and throw the dart. It hits bullseye. She shrieks and his jaw drops with amazement before she jumps up and down excitedly, throwing her arms around his neck in celebration. I feel a pang in my chest so sharp, my eyes well with tears. I have to get out. I push my way through a startled group of people huddled by the door, tripping over my feet and throwing myself out the door.

It’s now pouring with rain and I don’t have a coat, but I don’t care. My chest feels tight and I need to be in the fresh air. Closing my eyes, I take a few moments to breathe slowly in and out, allowing the rain to soak through my clothes and dampen my hair. Then, hugging my arms across my body, I start to walk down the path out the pub.

‘Flossie!’

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