The Boleyn Effect (The Boleyn Ending)

by Deborah. C. Foulkes

  'Yeah, that sounds good. I'll walk you out,' I answer.

  I lead Harry out the door catching Clair mouthing 'cute.' As we pass and it makes me giggle. There it is again. The giggle. What's going on? When we get to the door he looks down at me. Again a little too close, but I don't move away.

  'I meant what I said. I want us to be friends. Let me take you out for lunch later. No expectations, just two people enjoying the others company.'

  'I'd like that. My last appointment is at five,' I answer.

  'Good, I'll pick you up.'

  I'm still smiling as I turn away back to the studio and Clair stands waiting for me.

  'So, who's that?' she asks.

  'Don't kick off,' I start.

  'Why would I kick off...wait...that's not who I think it is? Jesus Leigh, don't tell me you and George are still doing this bet?'

  'No,' I lie. 'Look in the book he and his wife are customers.'

  Clair gives me a look that tells me she doesn't know whether to believe me, but it's ok. She's best not knowing and she'll only talk me out of it, which she should, but I fear that I am beyond reason at the moment.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The car Harry drives is of course a BMW with the cream leather seats. I shouldn't really expect anything less. It's flashy and also indicates a man who refuses to grow old. This, I know I can use as an advantage. A man who refuses to grow old is a desperate man who needs to cling onto any piece of youth and that's what I intended to be. That piece of youth.

  Maybe that there lies the chink in Katherine's armour. She reminds him of his true age and how old he's getting, whereas with me, he can be twenty-seven again. During a lull in my diary that day I had rung George to tell him of Harry's visit and of course he'd been a little pissed it had not been orchestrated.

  'So, are we to assume that the challenge is still on?' he asked.

  'I thought it was a case study?' I answered.

  'It is, but like I said if you can do it I'll give you the deposit for your own studio.'

  'And if I lose?'

  'Then you allow me to put a ring on your finger.'

  'You would still want me to marry you even if I don't love you?' I asked.

  'Then call it an extra incentive, because as my friend you wouldn't want me to marry someone who didn't love me. Look Leigh all you got to do is get him to fall in love with you.'

  I'm not too sure that I really have that power. It's a big ask. Any woman who has had an affair with a married man knows full well that the man is happy to have two beds kept warm. The spice and excitement given by the mistress and the security and love given by the wife. It takes something truly special for a mistress to tear him away from that security. So I have to ask whether I am that special. But George is right. I don't want to be Mrs. Gaskill. I need to win this if we are to start playing and if Katherine is unhappy then what is the harm.

  In the car with Harry, I realise I am going to have to play this game as though my life depends on it. I am going to make sure he wants me so much that the thought of not getting me is going to be painful. I will pull all the seduction tricks in the book if I have to. He will be mine.

  'How was your day?' Harry asks, as he drives.

  'Busy,' I answer. 'I have a few commissions that I have to follow up on and I always have the regular family portrait stuff.'

  He smiles at me and I note that his left hand is resting on the arm rest between us. I know full well what those hands feel like after he'd plunged his fingers inside me. They are soft, warm and inviting. I know my hand would fit perfectly inside them, but I keep my own clasped on my lap.

  I note that the ring finger is empty, but there is the white line where it should be. I feel a little annoyed at him for taking it off. For me it seems almost cowardly and I don't wish to ruin the illusion of an attractive man for myself.

  Instead I focus on how it would feel to hold it. It would be so easy just to rest mine on his. So damn easy, but I'm playing this cool. At the moment we are just friends, who are in lust with one another. But lust is not enough. Lust doesn't always break up families.

  After a short drive he pulls into a car park and stops the car. We sit for a moment in silence stuck in this secluded small space where in a moment I could be in his lap with his hands all over my body. I shake the thought from my mind. I need to be cool.

  'Are you hungry?' he asks.

  Oh, how loaded is that question, but I manage a nod without an answer and reach for the door. We walk across the road towards one of those Italian franchise restaurants. With his hand on my back he pushes me across the road and then rushes to open the door for me. A gentleman as well. I'd love to see how long this lasts.

  The waiter takes us to a quiet area and shows us to our seats. I wonder if Harry has a routine when it comes to his mistresses and if this place is one where he's a regular. The waiter doesn't seem to know him, but that means nothing. The thought makes me frown and causes him to ask what's bothering me.

  'It's nothing,' I say as the waiter took our drinks order.

  'No, please tell me,' he pushes.

  'Are you sure you want me to ask?'

  'You want to know if I take all my conquest here?' he smiles

  My shrug gives him my answer.

  'Well I just thought...maybe with other mistresses...'

  His laughter catches me off guard as I wonder what I've just said that is funny.

  'Mistresses? Are we in the 18th Century? I've never had a mistress or mistresses for that matter. I didn't realise that word existed outside soap operas. I've had lovers, but nothing long term. Mainly one night stands. I don't even think I've ever taken them out.'

  'Oh,' I say.

  This changes things. If the others are just meaningless fucks then I am going to have to work much harder. I've to become important enough to be his mistress and then make the step up from there. I'm worth more than a quick fuck. I just have to make him believe that.

  'Does that bother you?' he asks.

  'Not really. We are just friends. Just like me and George and he's gone through his fair share. But can I ask you to do one thing?'

  'Go on.'

  'Could you please put your wedding ring back on? I already know about your wife and since we are just friends it seems pointless.'

  He visibly relaxes as he pulls out the gold band and places it back where it belongs. The waiter arrives and we both start to order our food. The waiter smiling at us both takes the order and leaves us alone once more.

  'Tell me about you and George.'

  I'm not prepared for questions about me and my best friend, but I suppose in his eyes, George is the closest male to me and could be a threat.

  'He's my best friend. We've known each other for about eight years and you already know his family and I don't really see eye to eye.'

  'Ah, the gold digger tag,' he chuckles. 'And you and he...?'

  'God no,' I laugh. 'He's not my type.'

  'And what is?'

  Here we go. There's the question. The probe to find out if he has a shot, where George hasn't.

  'I need security. A man who can make me feel safe and secure within a relationship. I must be the be all and end all, and like I said before I don't like to share. George can never give me that, because he's far too insecure in himself.'

  'So not a lot to ask then,' he smirk.

  'A girl should never compromise when it comes to love,' I answer.

  'And when it comes to sex?'

  'Even more so.'

  The talk continues in a relaxed flirtatious manner. I ask about his work and he asks about mine. It's like chess each of us making a move before the other and all the time avoiding being taken off the board.

  After out meal, we walk back to the car in the warm drizzle that's starting to fall. We are silent once more as if we've left all the carefreeness back in the restaurant. Our bodies close as we walk side by side and there again is the near contact of our hands. Why can't I stop thinking about his hand in
mine? A romantic gesture that is far removed from what my agenda is, yet, it still lingers.

  'Do you want a lift back?' he asks.

  Going back into that car means so much more, because I'm not sure how much longer I can keep from touching him, but I don't want to walk home. He seems to sense my indecision.

  'No funny business I promise. Perfect gentleman,' he says.

  I smile. 'Since you put it that way, then I would be grateful.'

  We park outside my flat and for a moment we sit in silence once more. The journey home merely consisting of more small talk.

  'Thanks for taking me out,' I say.

  'It was my pleasure,' he smiles.

  'Well, I suppose I'd better go.'

  I lean over and kiss him on the cheek, but he's not letting me go that easily as he moves his face so I meet lips. Its' a sneaky trick that impresses me. Not such a gentleman then?

  The kisses are light at first and then pushing his tongue against mine the heat turns up a notch. Grabbing the lapel of his shirt, I pull him closer as his hands reach out. The heat of the kiss makes me moan and I’m desperate to be closer as I stretch my body towards his. But it isn't enough and I am finding it hard to control myself.

  The little voice that could even be George is saying to maintain control. Don't be over eager. The problem is I'm not that good at listening. My body always talks louder. I scramble into his lap and groan meeting hardness against my dampening centre.

  His hands knead my covered breasts as I grind my groin against his. Denim against denim. Tongues clashing in each other's mouth. Hot breath on each other's skin. Sexual tension pungent in such a small space.

  Finally, I push away with my back against the steering wheel I try to control my breathing as his hands squeezes my thighs and move up down not quite going where I want them to. During our make out, he's kept his hands above my waistline, remaining on my breasts. Maybe he's nervous of going too far after I ignored him last time. Playing the gentleman, for now at least. Just until the boundaries are established.

  'Is this how you say goodbye to all your friends?'

  'Not all my friends are like you,' I answer.

  I shift slightly in his lap and the action causes him to close his eyes briefly. I smile. I can easily have him eating out of the palm of my hand.

  'I should go,' I say.

  'You get me all fired up and then leave me hanging,' he whines.

  'Friends remember,' I answer smiling.

  I shuffle from his lap and he winces once more. Reaching for the door his hand grabs mine and holds me still.

  'What we talked about earlier about one night stands; just so you know I would never do that to you. You are the white rose.'

  'No, you wouldn't because friends would never do that to each other,' I answer.

  I pull away and climb out of the car giving him a small wave.

  'Goodbye Harry,' I say.

  I watch him drive away before turning towards my front door. The light is on and I sigh. What made me decide to give George his own key? He no doubt watched all the goings on and now I have to prepare for a lecture on some detail I missed out of how Anne Boleyn wooed Henry VIII.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  'So are you going to give me a lecture?' I ask as I walk through my door.

  George looks at me and shrugs. The tense atmosphere is strong and now I'm beginning to wish I'd stayed out longer.

  'Why should I? It seems you've got it pretty much covered.'

  I frown at him suspiciously. It's not like him to be so chilled out and with the tense atmosphere it feels confusing and I wonder what he's up to. So I ask.

  'I just came to see how the date went. I thought I told you that sex was off the agenda.'

  'You do know that this isn't the 16th Century and that I can't use the promise of a son to keep him interested. And, also I am not a virgin,' I say.

  George gives me a strange look even though he's wearing a smile.

  'Are we trying to be factious?' he asks.

  'No, but I think you need to give me a bit more credit than you are doing. Like did you know he's never had a mistress, only one night stands? I already know how I'm going to play this. I am a woman after all and we haven't changed much in all these years.'

  'Well there's no point in me being here is there?' he sulks.

  I hate this, now I have to make sure he knows I need him. It's all about control and if I give it back to him then all will be well. I just wish he'd understand that being a control freak is not the most attractive thing in the world. It's a game we've always played together and I doubt it will ever change. I grab hold of him and hug him tight. This always works. Show a little affection and he'll be fine.

  I can smell the faint aroma of drink and my heart drops. Jesus this is going to be a long night. He can be such a child sometimes. Always desperate for attention and love. It's always been the same. I am always the one to pick him up whenever he falls down and I know that's why he wants me. He needs me and that is so far removed to loving me.

  'Of course I need you. Who else is going to keep me on the straight and narrow,' I reassure.

  'You know I love you don't you?'

  I close my eyes. We can't be doing this again. How many more times do we have to do this?

  'I love you too. You're my best friend,' I answer.

  'What does he have that I don't?'

  I pull away from his grasp and get to my feet. Every boyfriend I've had has never been good enough for him. Always picking faults until I have no choice but to see them myself. But this time it's different. This is a different game altogether.

  'It's you who wanted us to do this. I'm playing a game. It's not like I love him or anything. You and me are different. We are solid. It's not fake.'

  'Well you looked kinda cosy in his car. Not like hard work at all,' he moans.

  'For fucks sake, George what do want from me? Maybe, we shouldn't do this if you're going to be like this,' I snap.

  He looks up at me with a glazed expression and I groan. Storming to the bedroom, I pull out the spare bedding and throw it on him.

  'Sleep it off and then decide whether you want to continue with this or not. But whatever you decide get this, you and I are not going to happen and I will do everything in power to make sure I win.'

  I go into my bedroom and slam the door. I know I'm being harsh, but he needs to understand that he can't always have his own way. Climbing into bed, I wonder what would happen if he called off the bet. Would I still see Harry? Could I just carry on in the hope that I will be more than his one night stand? George said no sex, but is that really plausible in this day and age. My ego wants to find out if I am good enough. Whether I can get him into bed despite George.

  It's not like I've never had one night stands before. I enjoy sex and the flirtation with different people and I am happy to be the one that climbs in the taxi afterwards with false promises of calling back. Only a few conquests have made me call back, but they never lasted long.

  I drift into a sleep where I dream about Harry. We are both in the library and he's fucking me against that rickety railing. His plunges are causing me to cry out as my body responds to his. I can see the floor below us and the precarious position I'm in excites me even more. I find I am barely clinging on to the railing but trusting him to keep hold. Finally with a few hard thrusts he's hit the spot and letting me go I'm falling hard.

  When I awake I find myself on my stomach, hand clenching the wrought iron bedstead, biting the pillow, barely able to breathe. My body still shuddering from my sleepy orgasm. A little flustered, I stumble from the bed and make my way out to the kitchen, I need cold water to cool down. I start at the dark shadow in my kitchen and then I remember that I'd left George sleeping on my sofa.

  'Hey, you ok?' I ask.

  'Yeah, just feel kinda stupid. I'm sorry for being a cock,' he says.

  'I'll forgive you this time, but you got to get your head together. I hate it when you're like that.'
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br />   'That's why I've decided that if we do this we do it properly. Paperwork, the lot. Then you know that you'll get the money when you win.'

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The document sits between us like some deeds from the gods. Looking down, I feel a little dread. Maybe this really isn't a good idea. I've had some fun with Harry and to make matters worse Katherine has left messages about our appointments. Appointments I've been putting off. I'm not sure if I can look that woman in the eye after I've had my tongue down her husband's throat. But I can't ignore her forever, because not only will she be suspicious, I also need the money.

  'Why do I feel like I'm going to sign my soul over,' I say.

  George is sitting down opposite and I can see there's tension in his face. What has started out as a drunken challenge is now becoming serious. We’re both about to embark on something that could possibly change things between us and I'm not sure that I'm ready. Do I really need this new studio? I'm quite happy where I am.

  'Just look it over first,' he says stiffly. 'You've got to know that I've decided against involving Katherine. She's got to look the innocent in this. She already knows that Harry is showing an interest in someone new, but she's no idea that it's you.'

  'But you said she wants this?' I question nervously.

  'Believe me babe, she does. All she needs is a reason.'

  'But surely the others...?'

  'Leigh, come on less of the questions. You said you trusted me. Now look this over and sign.'

  I grab hold of it and start to read over what I'm about to sign. My task is to get Harry Cobain to fall in love with me within the allotted time. If I'm successful then George would buy the studio of my choosing and invest in my first gallery showing.

  Shit! Not just a deposit, but a full investment. I glance quickly at George and he gives me a smile. He's up the ante and now I need to read on to see what would happen if I lose.

  If Harry Cobain leaves me then I Leigh-Anne Boorman agree to marry George Gaskill.

  Taking a deep breath, I re-read the contract. Everything about this is wrong. Why the deceit? Why doesn't she just list all Harry's previous misdemeanours? And why in hell am I so damn tempted to pick up the pen and sign my name? It's because Harry is already interested. He's as good as mine and my ego and body loves the attention. If Katherine Cobain wants to end her marriage then I may as well have fun helping her and gain something from George.