The phone in my pocket had connected to the operator when I'd placed into my pocket and she'd heard everything. The police had been called by a passer-by also and it was them that had found the two of us grappling with a gun while Harry lay bleeding.
All three of us had been taken to the police station, but the recording of what had taken place meant that I was soon released. However, not before I'd given them Gaskill's name too. He'd been in on it also and deserved to go down with the other two and he too was arrested.
I had gone back to my flat days later where Harry's blood still stained my floor and crying I'd attempted to scrub it clean. I desperately wanted to see him and know he was fine, but no one would give me any news. I needed to tell him the truth about everything all in the hope we could start again.
Finally pretending to be his sister, I rang the hospital and to my relief was told he was awake and fine. The bitch had aimed for his crotch, but only just missed hitting the top of his thigh causing some damage.
Relieved and thankful, I started to prepare myself for bed. Going into the bathroom, the Clearblue wand sat on cistern, with its results ready for me to read. Sitting down, I began to cry more. I hadn't been lying after all. The sickness and dizzy spells had all be symptoms of pregnancy. I was expecting a baby with a man whom I didn't know wanted me still.
The next day, I summoned the courage to go to the hospital and there I was relieved to find him sleeping. This would make it easier. So leaving a note, I wrapped it around the wand and left it on his bedside. The ball was in his court now. If he wanted to, then he'd call.
No sooner had I returned home, my phone rang and it was him. He wanted to know everything and so I told him. We both cried with anger and frustration, but we were still talking. He wanted to be there for the child, but as for us, he wasn't sure and I couldn't blame him. He believed he didn't know me and the Leigh he'd fallen for was not my true self.
True to his word, he supported me throughout my pregnancy, turning up for scans and appointments. I ached for him so much, but I refrained from trying my old seduction tricks. I knew I just needed to bide my time. After all, George and I started this thing as a bet, but how Harry and I met had never been due to George. It had all been synchronicity.
Eventually, our time together, gave us both the opportunity to get to know each other with no game playing and six months into my pregnancy we fell in love all over again.
Katherine and Gaskill were both sentenced for attempted murder and sent to prison. All her money lost to wherever her father had ordered it to go. Well, all apart from the money she'd transferred into my account that night in the hope of Harry's return. She'd apparently had tried to retrieve the funds she'd prematurely moved to me, but it was too late.
George, however was different and no matter what he'd done it still hurt. During the trial, George had been found hanging in his holding cell. His death knocked me off my feet. I'd gone to his funeral, hidden away in the back, much to Harry's frustration. The night before we had argued fiercely.
'Why would you grieve over a man who manipulated everything you did?' he demanded.
'Because he was my best friend. I can't just switch those feelings off,' I answered.
'Even after he raped you.'
'He never...I never said no,' I defended.
'But you never said yes. He raped you.'
Part of the honesty was to tell Harry about what George and I had done. He'd insisted that it had been rape, but I was unconvinced. I never fought against him and tried to stop him.
Of course, this led to the obvious question about the child I carried. But George was obsessed with his sexual health and one of the few men that would double bag if he could. Knowing that I was sleeping with Harry was enough for George not to take any chances. The child was Harry's without any doubt.
A week after the funeral another life was born. My precious Elizabeth, named after Harry's mother. Although after what I'd done, the name choice seemed an odd one. Yet, it fitted her perfectly. She was a ball of pink feistiness, something she'd apparently inherited from her mother according to my father.
It had taken Elizabeth to be born for at least one of my parents to start speaking to me again. The newspapers had been filled with the case and trial, and of course they wanted to know my story. With the best lawyers I could find I made sure that my story was kept private. I didn't want the whole world to know my sordid story. The only other person to stand by me was Clair. Through thick and thin, she helped me through and became Elizabeth's godmother.
My parents were another story altogether. I can still remember their shocked faces at hearing that not only had their daughter engaged in an affair with a married man, but also pregnant. My dad especially blamed Harry for everything, but my mum went as far as disowning me altogether.
But I was the apple of my dad's eye and when his granddaughter was born he couldn't resist anymore. My mum soon followed. I think my father's badgering wore her down and soon they were doting grandparents. As for Harry, even today, relations are still tense, but I'm sure in time that will soon change.
Of course, Harry resigned from his post at the university and with Katherine's money she'd given me we moved away and started again, where he got a job as a lecturer. I fretted for months when he first got the job about all the pretty new students he would meet. Being heavily pregnant didn't help matters, but to his credit, not one turned his head.
The divorce had brought Harry nothing, but still he'd made that the conditions of the divorce. He wanted nothing from her. He had his own savings. She wrote and begged to see him, but he refused and from what I hear ranted herself into a state of madness.
As for my business, the move allowed me to start again. The house we bought together had a converted cellar and that became my studio. It didn't take long for my reputation to grow again and soon I was doing schools and portraits. However, I had noticed how differently the female clients treated me if they were with husbands. But starting out as a frumpy pregnant woman gave me the edge. I was not a threat and plus anyone could see that I was deeply infatuated with my own man.
Now I watch as Harry struggles with his daughter hanging off him and his briefcase. Having to walk with a stick, because the wound won't heal fully, he seems older and with it, his confident swagger has long gone, but I love him anyway. He's finally grown into a settled family man that wants to be kept.
Eventually Elizabeth leaves him alone and goes back to the TV. Getting, to my feet, I follow him to the kitchen and kiss him on the lips.
'I'm sorry I was late. I just went to pick it up. I've hidden it in the garage.'
I smile; the surprise Christmas gift that we've been desperately trying to get hold of for Elizabeth was our final item on the list.
'I can't wait to see her face,' I whisper against his lips.
'And what about the other thing?' he asks, worry furrowing his brow.
'Well put it this way, Mr. Cobain, you will not be just buying for one next Christmas,' I giggle.
He pulls me so I'm leant fully against him. My body draped over his, with my arms around his neck. We had been trying for so long and we both believed the wound had done more damage than anticipated. Every month bringing disappointment, until we decided to give up trying.
I feel him harden and I smile. I still affect him four years on. He kisses me harder this time as his hands wander to my bum and lifts me closer. Limp or no limp, he still functions perfectly well and though our entanglements are passionate there is no need for the frenzy that we had in the early days.
'And I can't wait, Mrs Cobain.'
I watch as he walks back into the living room and sits beside Elizabeth. I can see so much of him in her face and looking at them both I've never felt more content. The man I love may be older and I may have caught him using the tricks of Anne Boleyn, but I think I am the far better woman. After all I've managed to keep hold of my husband without losing my head.
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The Boleyn Effect (The Boorman Ending) Page 20