Page 10 of Match Point

Lifting his head cautiously, Kieran peers up from under his cap and starts.

‘You,’ he frowns, adjusting his sunglasses and sitting up straight. ‘Did you follow me?’

‘No!’ I bristle, my face heating at the suggestion. ‘I had no idea you were here! I thought you’d left!’

‘I did leave. I came here.’

‘Yes, thank you,’ I snap. ‘I realise that now.’

‘What are you doing here?’

‘Not following you. I… something came up and I need to do some research. I thought I’d get a glass of wine in the sun while I did so. What about you? What are you doing here?’

‘The place I rented isn’t ready yet.’

I note his pint of beer and raise my eyebrows pointedly. ‘I thought you had a bad headache,’ I mutter. ‘So bad you couldn’t get your own paracetamol.’

His jaw tightens. ‘Hair of the dog.’

Pressing my lips together, I make a decision. I resolutely plonk myself down on the other end of his table and reach for one of the flimsy cardboard coasters, setting my drink on top of it before pulling my laptop out of my bag and opening it up in front of me. I pick a bit of fluff off my keyboard.

He watches me in silence.

‘What are you doing?’ he asks in a low, sullen voice.

‘I’m having a drink and doing some research,’ I inform him haughtily, logging onto the Wi-Fi and taking a sip of my drink.

‘I meant, what are you doing at this table?’ he clarifies through gritted teeth, and it gives me great satisfaction that I’m bothering him.

‘You’re on your own and so am I. There’s plenty of room for both of us to sit here.’ I perch my sunglasses on top of my head so I can see my screen properly. ‘I’d already ordered my drink so I need somewhere to sit while I drink it.’

‘You can’t just sit down when you haven’t been invited.’

‘That’s funny, because I distinctly remember you waltzing into my flat when you hadn’t been invited. You even had a little lie-down on my sofa.’

He shifts in his seat. ‘That was a misunderstanding. You’re being purposefully rude.’

‘As opposed to how charming you were to me, once you realised your mistake,’ I say sarcastically.

‘I may have been a bit thrown by the confusion,’ he says defensively, scowling at me. ‘But I wasn’t rude.’

‘Really? Tell me, Kieran, what’s my name?’

He hesitates. ‘Why is that—’

‘Surely anyone with an ounce of manners might have thought to ask the person whose house they intruded upon, the same person who kindly got them some water and paracetamol, what their name was,’ I say innocently, tilting my head at him. ‘Or did I miss you asking me that during all your grovelling apologies?’

He inhales deeply through his nose, the muscle in his jaw twitching. He can’t answer.

HA.

‘Yeah, I didn’t think so.’ I return my attention to my laptop, typing into Google search, pressing return and then reaching for my glass of wine.

After a good minute of silence, he clears his throat.

‘Fine,’ he grumbles. ‘Maybe I should have asked you your name. And apologised.’

‘M-hm,’ I say, keeping my eyes on my screen as I scroll down the search results.

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