Page 101 of Match Point

He frowns. ‘But—’

‘I mean it, he can’t know about this,’ I say, keeping my voice hushed and grabbing Neil’s wrist. ‘You have to keep it from him today. Don’t let anyone mention it to him. If he sees this, he’ll get really upset and it could affect how he plays. Please.’

Neil rubs his forehead. ‘Flora—’

‘We’ll make sure he doesn’t see it,’ Brian assures me, understanding instantly.

My shoulders lower in relief. ‘Thank you.’

Neil eventually nods, seeming a little torn. I can understand his initial reluctance. The last time he kept something important from Kieran, he got an earful and I know the last thing he wants to do is risk fracturing his relationship, but he knows it’s for the best. I know that Kieran will blame himself for this, and that guilt, however misplaced, would be near to impossible to shake in the lead-up to this afternoon’s match. He’d be distracted and angry. We can’t risk it. I can’t put this burden on him today.

‘Maybe it’s best, Flora, if you… keep your distance today,’ Brian suggests. ‘We don’t want anything that will distract him from such an important match, and if there’s lots of attention on you, he might lose focus.’

My heart sinking, I nod.

When Kieran appears in the doorway, his bag slung over his shoulder, Neil brightens, strolling over to him with gusto.

‘Right, big day ahead,’ he declares, rubbing his hands together. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Fine.’ Kieran looks straight past Neil at me. His face eases into a smile. ‘Hey.’

‘Hey,’ I reply, glancing at Brian.

Kieran follows my line of sight and his smile fades. ‘Dad. You’re here.’

‘Raring to go,’ Brian nods, taking a step forwards so he’s flanking Neil.

I bow my head, retreating.

‘Everyone out, let’s go, the cars are waiting,’ Neil announces. ‘Kieran, I think you’ll be happy with the schedule we’ve set up before the match. You’ll have a couple of treatments and then warm-up and we talk over strategy, okay?’

‘Yeah, fine,’ Kieran says distracted. ‘Flossie, Matthew will come and pick you up before the match. We’re playing second, so it depends on how long the previous match goes on, but I think my match will probably start around four – what do you think, Neil?’

‘Actually Kieran, I… I don’t think I can be there today,’ I say.

The room falls silent. Kieran stares at me, his eyebrows pulled together. Neil drops his eyes to the floor. Brian lifts his chin. My words go against every gut feeling I have. I want to be there in that box watching him. I need to be there for him. And with my childhood being bandied about for entertainment, I need to feel close to him today especially. But this isn’t about what I want or need. This is about what’s best for Kieran.

‘You’re not coming,’ Kieran says slowly, as though saying it out loud will help him to understand it.

‘I have… an interview,’ I say, my brain scrambling for something believable. ‘A job interview. It’s late this afternoon and I won’t be able to make it to Wimbledon in time.’

He tilts his head. ‘You can’t reschedule?’

‘No, it’s super competitive. This was the only time they could do.’

His eyes bore into me and although I try to hold his gaze, I can’t. I look down at the floor.

‘This is my first time playing on Centre Court,’ I hear him say in a small voice.

God, this hurts. This really fucking hurts. He’s telling me he needs me without telling me he needs me. Something in me falters. Maybe everyone has got this wrong. I open my mouth to speak, but Brian jumps in, stepping round Neil to pat Kieran on the arm.

‘And you’ll have me and Neil and all of your team in your box, there for you. You’ve got the support network you need. She can’t drop her life to fit around yours, Kieran. If she’s got a job interview, then she can’t miss it. She’ll be cheering you on from afar, right, Flora? This is the Wimbledon semi-finals, Kieran. You shouldn’t be thinking about who’s in the box, but how you’re going to play. Who you’re up against. Forget who’s in the box and who’s not. Focus on you.’

Kieran lowers his eyes.

‘Good, let’s go,’ Brian says, nodding to Neil.

As they file out of the room, I stay where I am chewing on my thumbnail. Everything about this feels unnatural, and even though I want to do what’s best for him, I can’t let him go to Wimbledon without saying goodbye at least. I rush forwards into the hallway just before they open the front door.

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