Page 117 of Match Point

‘Are you kidding?’ I grin, putting my hands on my hips. ‘I wouldn’t miss it.’

‘Good,’ he says, whipping his cap out a top zip in his bag and putting it on. ‘I’ll look out for you.’

With a nod to the official, the door is opened and he walks out, on his way back to play in the final of the Wimbledon Championship.

The official hisses, ‘You were never here,’ over his shoulder at me and winks, before hurrying out after him.

This is it. I’d better go find a seat.

*

3–6, 2–6, 6–1, 6–4

Standing at six all in the final set, it has gone to a ten-point tie-break.

The tie-break score is currently 8–8.

I feel like I can’t breathe. My stomach is knotted, my heart in my throat, my body so tense that my fingers are trembling. I have to sit on my hands.

Kieran is readying himself to return as Courtney requests another ball from the ball boy before he serves.

This is unbelievable. He is unbelievable. The way Kieran’s fought back has been nothing short of miraculous and the crowd are absolutely loving it. I’ve never been anywhere before with such an electric atmosphere. There are thousands of people in here but at the start of a point, it’s so silent, you could hear a pin drop. One tiny cough echoes through the whole stadium, especially with the roof on. Then as the rally begins, the volume of the chorus of gasps begins to increase until it erupts with noise when the point is won. And Courtney has a solid support base, but Kieran is stealing hearts with every stroke that he makes. It started out so one-sided, they must have thought it was nearly over, but he’s given them the sort of match that the Wimbledon final deserves: it’s nail-biting, thrilling, dramatic, entertaining, epic. And they love him for it.

Everyone likes an underdog.

Bloody hell, I’ve never been so sweaty in my life.

I don’t know how Neil is sitting next to me so calm and collected, his mouth a straight thin line the entire time. I feel like my heart is thudding so hard, Kieran might be able to see it pounding through my skin every time he looks up.

His glances to me have not gone unnoticed.

My face has been beamed up onto the big screen a couple of times, and the first time, when I’d just entered the box to take my place next to Neil, there was a ripple of intrigued whispers around the crowd. I flushed furiously. But when he won the third set and a shot of me appeared on the big screen again, I barely noticed. I didn’t care one jot. I was too busy cheering him on. Brian acknowledged me with a curt nod when I came to sit in the box with Kieran’s team, but he’s sitting too far away to speak to me.

That’s probably for the best. I don’t really have anything to say to him.

Kieran’s fight back to level with Courtney has been astonishing, and Courtney looks like he can’t believe that he’s here battling for the Championship with a tie-break. Frustration is creeping into Courtney’s game as he faces Kieran’s relentless aggression. He looked dumbfounded at the start of the fourth set, and by the end, seemed consigned to the fact that this was going to lead to a tie-break: he double-faulted twice in his last service game. In between the third and fourth set, Neil passed me his phone to give me a glimpse of Iris’s blog as she keeps her followers updated with constant posts:

O’Sullivan is finally playing like he’s just remembered he really wants to win. He believes now, and so do we.

As much as I dislike Courtney, I have to admit that the standard of tennis is unbelievably high on both sides. This really could go either way.

Okay, Courtney has selected a ball for his serve and he’s stepping up to the line.

‘Silence, please,’ the umpire requests.

Centre Court abides.

It’s a powerful serve from Courtney down the middle, but Kieran’s reflexes are on fire and he’s there with a backhand, reacting fast to return the serve to Courtney’s backhand. Courtney sends a beautiful shot cross-court, before rushing towards the net. Kieran gets there to send it back hard and flat, to try to pass him down the line but Courtney reacts with an incredible lunging volley. Rushing forwards, Kieran just reaches it, lobbing it high over his head to the back of the court. The crowd gasps in unison as Courtney races back. The ball bounces a foot in front of the baseline. Courtney closes the gap sprinting back and manages to twist, swiping a messy forehand lofting over the net. Kieran has time. He gently slices the ball, taking the pace off and it drops just over the net, rolling to a standstill.

There is a moment’s silence of disbelief at the skill displayed, before the stadium breaks into astonished applause, cheering and whistling. At the back of the court, Courtney throws his racket in fury.

Oh. My. God.

Kieran just broke his serve. He’s taken the lead. He’s winning.

Championship Point.

Kieran is serving for Championship Point!

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