Page 116 of Match Point

I take a beat, my heart thudding against my chest.

‘You forgot to ask me for a secret,’ I say.

Kieran looks puzzled.

‘When we were playing ping-pong, you told me a secret – the one about Lingfield Road – and then I was supposed to tell you one in return, but we never got to mine,’ I begin to explain. This wasn’t how I planned this to go at all, but my brain is insisting on taking us in this direction, so I’m going with it. ‘My secret, Kieran, is that I’m writing a graphic novel.’

He frowns. ‘I… I know that one.’

‘Yes, but you don’t know what it’s about. No one knows. I’ve been too scared to tell anyone because when you put your heart into something – your whole heart – it takes a lot of courage to show it to others. So, here goes.’ I clear my throat. ‘It’s a romance, about a girl at school who feels… lost. She doesn’t have much family or many friends, and she’s never felt like she’s fit in or understood what her purpose might be. She’s kind of muddling through hopelessly. She loses herself in books, because she doesn’t feel alone when she reads. But then a new boy starts at the school. He’s not particularly warm and friendly, he’s got that sexy brooding thing going on—’ I notice Kieran’s lips twitch here and the official nod with approval–. ‘He keeps himself to himself, doesn’t talk much or attempt to make friends. They get partnered together for a school project and they clash. But slowly, as they’re forced to let each other in, they begin to understand each other. She sees him play tennis and she can tell that’s where he comes alive, where he’s truly himself. He lost someone close, you see, and tennis… it saved him. And his motivation and kindness inspires her to write her own stories. Slowly, these two lost, hopeless outsiders both start to feel that they are found.’

The official sniffs.

Kieran’s eyes are gleaming. ‘And how does it end?’ he asks softly.

I shrug. ‘I haven’t worked out the ending yet. But I think their story will continue way past the end of the book.’

The corners of his mouth twitch. ‘There’s a sequel?’

‘I hope so.’

‘Me too.’

‘Kieran,’ I say, reaching forwards to take his hands in mine, our fingers entwining, ‘I’ve never really felt like I mattered to anyone, but you’ve changed that. So, really, I should be thanking you. Not the other way round.’

He bows his head to press his forehead against mine and closes his eyes.

‘I love you,’ I whisper. ‘Win or lose today, I’ll be waiting for you after.’

He exhales slowly. ‘Then it sounds like I’ve already won.’

‘Oh my,’ the official sighs, wiping his eyes. ‘I’m so happy!’

A knock on the door makes the three of us jump.

‘It’s time,’ a voice declares.

‘Coming!’ the official calls back in a shrill voice, before looking up at Kieran. ‘All right, Mr O’Sullivan, it’s time to go back on court. Please follow me.’

He turns and marches over to the door.

I place my hands on Kieran’s shoulders and offer what I hope to be an easy, nonchalant smile. ‘Shut out the noise, remember?’

‘I’m just going to play a bit of tennis,’ he says, his smile widening and the dimples turning my insides to mush.

‘And then come home for cake.’

‘Victoria sponge?’

‘Of course.’

‘And there will be a banner, right?’

‘I’m going to put my all into it. It will be the best one you’ve ever seen.’

The official clears his throat pointedly and, taking one last deep breath with me, Kieran goes to pick up his tennis bag and sling it over his shoulder. I beam at him as he strides to the door. He looks taller somehow.

He quickly turns back to me. ‘You’ll be there watching, right?’

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