Match Point by Katherine Reilly

Author:Katherine Reilly [Reilly, Katherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781035911677
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing

*

‘How are you feeling about the next round?’ I ask softly, once he’s returned from the bathroom and has got back into bed. I’m nuzzled into the crook of his arm, my head resting against his bare chest, one hand lazily doodling patterns across his stomach.

He chuckles, tightening his arm around me. ‘You want to go again? Give me a minute and I’m game.’

‘I’m talking about Wimbledon.’ I roll my eyes, but break into a grin, flattered at his enthusiasm. ‘You remember winning your match today?’

‘Oh, that, yeah, rings a bell.’ He sighs, lifting his other hand to rest behind his head on the pillow. ‘I don’t know. A little nervous, I guess. It’s still early in the tournament, but one step closer and all that.’

‘What is it about Wimbledon? Why is that the one you all want to win?’

He takes a moment to work out his answer and in the quiet, I listen to the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat. I didn’t want to assume that I’d sleep in the bed next to him tonight after everything that’s just happened, but I was relieved when he asked me to stay. I’m not sure there’s anywhere I’d rather be than here lying beside him, sheets draped over us, my leg wrapped around his, his arm cradling me against him, his fingertips resting lightly on my hip.

‘There’s something about playing on the courts there,’ he answers eventually in a soft voice. ‘You can feel the history, everything and everyone who went before you. Wimbledon has a lot of heritage and all the rules encourage you to respect that heritage and tradition, you know? It’s the prestige of it. The biggest thing for me is the silence.’

I raise my eyebrows. ‘What do you mean?’

‘When you step up to serve at Wimbledon, it’s silent. Complete silence.’

‘That must be daunting.’

‘Mm.’

We fall into comfortable silence and I relax against him, closing my eyes. I’m starting to drift off when he speaks again.

‘Flossie?’

‘Yes?’

‘Will you come watch the match on Friday?’ he asks cautiously. ‘You can sit with my team in the player box of the stands. I’d like you to be there.’

‘Sure, Kieran,’ I say calmly, although my heartbeat quickens in my chest to an alarming rate. ‘I’ll be there.’

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