The Boleyn Effect (The Boleyn Ending)

by Deborah. C. Foulkes

  'Jesus, Leigh,' he moans. 'That is so good.'

  Shifting into a better position, I feel his seat move back giving me more room to play. I tug at his jeans a little more so they are now around his knees. I look at him all wet from my mouth, glistening in the darkness. Then with a licking of my lips I return to where I started.

  Using my hand, I fondle his balls gently and this only increases his desperate growls. The moisture that is building tells me he's more than ready and with a shocked and thankful groan from him I take all of him into my mouth and start my relentless assault.

  'My God, Leigh,' he breathes. 'I'm ready to come.'

  It's a warning in case I don't want him to finish in my mouth, but I am not paying attention. I am just enjoying the feeling of him thickening and swelling beneath my tongue. He's about to explode and I want to make sure it's me that takes him there.

  'Leigh, sweetheart,' he groans.

  I feel him stiffen beneath me and the hand he has on my head tugs at my hair and pushes it down hard so I'm at the root. Then in a hot rush it's over and I swallow quickly. Raising my head, I see his eyes are half closed and he's breathing hard. At the party, he exerted his power over me and now I've done the same to him. We are equal competitors in this game and he now knows it.

  'I think the debt is well and truly paid,' he smiles as he adjusts himself.

  'Then we are even,' I answer, sitting back into my seat wiping my mouth.

  'Just so you know I didn't ask you here for this. I do want to get to know you and talk,' he says.

  'I know; that's why I came. I really could do with a drink now. Shall we go find somewhere open? It's thirsty work repaying debts.'

  His grin broadens and for the first time I notice how lopsided his mouth goes when he smiles. I restrain myself; I don't need to take too much notice of his appearance. I have to remember he's a target who is an arsehole to his wife and I am saving her from him.

  Turning the car over, we pull out of our hiding place and get on the road once more. We don't find anywhere to get a drink and instead opt for a drive-thru. The watered down coke goes down well, washing down all that remains of him inside my mouth.

  We sit in the car park and just talk. Illuminated by the Golden Arches and the Argos Superstore. I admit that finding someone who takes an interest in my life is refreshing. I don't mean just superficial stuff, but how I got into photography, family, loves and hates. I don't think even George has ever asked me these questions.

  'Can I ask how many there's been?' I ask after a moment of silence.

  'Do you really want to know?'

  Curled up in the car seat, I have my knees tucked beneath me and he's holding my hand in his. All sweet and cosy. We are almost like a normal couple, enjoying each other's company.

  'I really want to know,' I say.

  He takes a deep breath and there's a small squeeze of my hand. I realise he's scared to tell me. He doesn't want me to judge him. He wants me to think of him as a better man than what he truly is.

  'I think around twenty or thirty. I don't really notch them on my bedpost. The last one...well it wasn't good.'

  I already knew this story, but I ask him anyway. I want to hear his side. Hear his excuses. See if they match Katherine's.

  'Why, what happened?'

  'I was stupid that's what happened,' he says a little too sharply. 'It went too far and she wanted more than I could give her. She went to Kat and told her everything and that she was pregnant. I broke both of their hearts. I was so glad that it was a false alarm. If I ever gave another woman what she can’t have would devastate her.'

  'Maybe there's a lesson in there for you to learn.'

  'Leigh, you must think that I am some arsehole doing what I do,' he says.

  'I'm in no position to judge,' I answer.

  He smiles but it's a sad one. 'The girl I was with before Kat. I never cheated on her once. Never entered my head to even try.'

  'What happened to her?'

  'She disappeared. Left me a note saying she was sorry. She'd been sleeping with my roommate and had got herself in trouble. She broke my heart and Kat came back into my life and helped put it back together.'

  'That's a sad story, but I like to look at the positives.'

  'Which are?'

  'If you'd have stayed with this girl and married her then you wouldn't have married Katherine. And so, wouldn't be sat here with me.'

  Laughing, he kisses my hand.

  'That is a very good point as always Miss Boorman. But I just wanted you to know that I am not a total arsehole.'

  'Life is not always black and white,' I quote George.

  Sighing, he checks his phone and releases my hand.

  'I should get you back.'

  Disappointment fills me as I shift in my seat and put the belt back on. Driving back, the music plays and suddenly Alice Cooper's Poison starts to play and he cranks up the volume. I turn towards the window so I can hide the smile. I'm getting under his skin, even though he's torn on how far he wants to take this with me.

  He had a close call with this other girl and I get it. He needs to know if he can trust me, because I get the feeling I will become a full blown affair. He's testing the waters, finding what makes me tick. If I'm strong enough to handle just being the mistress. He really has no idea how strong I am or how far I will go.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  'I knew you'd change your mind once you'd been with him,' George says.

  Sitting in studio, I am sending the finished pictures off to be placed on large canvas'. Katherine has chosen the best three and they would be what go on whatever wall she chose. Probably the bedroom. I push the thought from my head as I try to concentrate on what I'm doing.

  'So, when are you meeting again? Has he texted you?'

  Sighing, I sit back in my chair. It's been days since I last saw Harry and there's been nothing. I've avoided George, because I haven't quite perfected my 'couldn't give a shit face' but of course he's caught up with me.

  'It's not like he texts me all the time anyway,' I say.

  'Well that explains a lot,' George quips.

  Pushing myself out of the chair, I go to the coffee machine and start to make two coffees. Anything to keep me busy away from him. He's driving me mad and at the moment my temper is about to explode.

  'Like what exactly?' I say.

  'The mood you're in. Maybe you gave him too much too soon and he's lost interest.'

  'I doubt that very much,' I reply and it comes out harsh.

  George smirks as I hand him the coffee that I so want to throw at him. There's no doubt that I'm pissed off and a little hurt. How long does it take to just send a few words of hi? After all, it's never stopped him before. The most surprising thing is that I am pissed off.

  These are feelings. Feelings that shouldn't be there, because this is just a game. I need to nip this in the bud, because that's one thing that would complicate the whole thing. Maybe it's a good thing that he's not texting me. I could do with some space, but then I said that before ending up in Harry's car.

  What if George is right and I gave too much? No, I know the look of a man who is caught in my web, because I see it in George's face every day and Harry has the same look.

  'She looks good on pictures. Very photogenic,' George says as he sits in my chair and scans the photos of Katherine.

  'I know what you are trying to do,' I say slamming the lid down on the laptop.

  'What am I trying to do?'

  'You are trying to mess with my head and make me do something stupid and then you'll win,' I snap.

  'Hey, there's a lot at stake,' he laughs and then turns serious. 'I would have ripped the damn contract if you'd said so the other night.'

  'I know and I'm sorry and yes she does look good. I am actually very proud of them in a twisted sense.'

  'You should be. You are the best,' George says.

  The door swings open and Clair bustles in with supplies and George and I change topic. I l
eave Clair and George to talk amongst themselves while I check my phone once more for messages. Sighing, I start to dial.

  'Katherine Cobain.'

  'Hi Katherine, its Leigh. I just want to let you know that the pictures have been sent off. So if you want to pick them up next week we'll arrange something.'

  There's a long pause and I can hear her breathing and I suddenly feel cold. Something doesn't feel right.

  'Fine, call my secretary and arrange something,' she says and then puts the phone down.

  That's it. She knows. She fucking knows and I’m going to be stuck footing the bill for her prints that she no longer wants. That's why Harry’s suddenly gone quiet. Our gamble hasn't paid off. He's freaked, gone home with a guilty conscious and spilled the beans. For what? A quick blow job in his car and a bit of heavy petting. Maybe, Katherine was right. He does really love her and wants to make changes. He's had a lapse of judgement and now wants to repent.

  Glancing over at George, I stop and see something I haven't noticed before, him and Clair looking cosy as they chat. Both leant into one another. Laughing and listening to each other. When the fuck did this start happening. I am in no mood for any of his shit either. I'm not being played.

  'George,' I snap.

  He looks up as if realising that I'm still in the room and Clair hurriedly starts to check the computer. Coming to my side, his smile broadened.

  'What's going on there then?' I whisper.

  'Oh you know,' he answers.

  I grab his arm, pull him into my tiny office and slam the door.

  'No I don't know.'

  'She's a laugh. I like her. Why're jealous?'

  'Fuck who you want,' I throw.

  'Whoa, you really are in a fucking mood. You better crack up the Ben and Jerry's when you get home.'

  'You know what? You're a fucking dick and to think I signed some shitty piece of paper in agreement to marry you. That there should tell you something.'

  I grab my coat and slam out of the studio and into the street. I’ve no idea where I’m going to go. I don't want to go to the flat, because George will just follow me there. Spying the Museum Gardens, I think of the pub that Harry first took me too and that's where I head. I need to get everything clear and I can't do it with George, Harry or even Katherine in the vicinity.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The pub is practically empty thankfully and buying a drink, I find a quiet corner to just sit and think. I could just walk away. That would be the simple solution. Finish the portraits of Katherine, collect my cheque and then go away. In fact I've not seen my mum and dad for months. I could just go and stay there and be normal. Be Leigh-Anne Boorman, the simple girl who loves her camera. Not Leigh whose ego and pride is becoming too big for her to handle.

  My phone ringing startles me, looking down expecting it to be George, but to my surprise it's Katherine. My heart picks up pace as I press on answer.

  'Hello?'

  'Leigh? It's Katherine. I'm ringing to see if you're busy. I could do with a chat.'

  Her voice is not as cold as before and that just makes me feel even more uneasy. I can cope with cold and even angry at least I know where I am with that. This sudden change in attitude doesn't bode well for me and I feel my anxiety levels rising even more.

  'No I've just finished for the day,' I sort of lie.

  I haven't, but I am not going back to that place while George's there. He's an arsehole and I know I should wise up when it comes to him. Maybe some time away may allow me to revaluate both my relationship with Harry and George.

  'I was thinking of the pub on Marygate. The one near you. Is that ok?'

  Shit I am already there. Lie or just go through with it. Play it cool. I wonder if Harry brings her to this place too. No he wouldn't bring a future fling to their local. Too many eyes and tongues to wag.

  'You must be a mind reader. I’m here already.'

  'Great, I'll meet you in ten.'

  True to her word, she's there so quick that there's hardly any time for me to get my head around her coming. Preparing the way, I get her a drink. I’ve no idea what she drinks, but I figure a white wine would suffice. She walks into the gloomy pub and instantly the place lights up.

  How does she do that? Wearing a powder blue dress and matching jacket she looks so elegant. But her face is pale and strained, which seems to be hidden beneath make-up. Spotting me, she sits down and thanks me for the wine, before taking a gulp.

  'Thank you, I needed that,' she says. 'I'm sorry that I was a little harsh on the phone to you earlier.'

  'It's ok. I was a little worried if I'm honest,' I say.

  'Would you mind if I confided in you once more?' I nod. 'You'll probably laugh or think I'm a foolish old woman, but you remember what I told you about Harry. That I thought he was having another affair. Well Liza was just in the office where talked about the party and she told me that she'd seen you and Harry talking at the party and in her words looked cosy. I...well I thought.'

  'You thought that I was sleeping with your husband just by talking to him?' I ask.

  She nods at me and I feel my chest tighten.

  'If you knew my husband then you'd know that if he shows an interest in a female then it usually means he's making a play for her.'

  I need to play devil's advocate just to see how much trust she has in me. I have to know where I am on the playing field before I make the next move.

  'So what makes you think that I'm not...having sex with him I mean?'

  She offers me a small smile and I'm sure there's a little sympathy in there too.

  'I swear I'm not being rude honey, but Harry has a type and you don't really fit. I just got a little paranoid before, but thinking about it I realise it was stupid. He's always preferred blondes, even when we first met I'd gone through a bleaching stage. He also chooses women or girls that are little ditzy, easy to control and easy to please. He needs to feel like a man when he’s with them. You come across as nothing like that. I just put two and two together in my already paranoid state and came up with five.'

  That's the second time I've been told that I'm not good enough for Harry Cobain. My ego is taking one hell of a battering, even though I know I've already caught Harry. But because I don't follow a trend, it means that Katherine feels safe with me. I am to be trusted. For now at least.

  'No offence taken,' I say. 'And for the record, I'm not having sex with Harry. He was just asking me about the work I do.'

  This at least is true. We have engaged in sexual acts, but not intercourse. The play of words causes me to inwardly smile. I am becoming far too good at being deceitful.

  'Seriously, I'm sorry,' she says. 'You have become a very good friend to me. I'm so glad Mary introduced us. I think what George suggested may be playing on my mind a little.'

  'Well if you get the next round in I'll consider forgiving you,' I smile.

  Her face lights up at last with a smile and getting to her feet she strolls to the bar. With her back to me, I slump back into my seat. I really need to get away. The pictures would be with me soon and then I could go and see my parents. I desperately need some space.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  The day I've been dreading finally arrives. I’ve carefully wrapped up the canvas' and hand delivered them to Katherine. She looks at me excitedly as the packages sit between us. She really does look beautiful in them and it eats away at me a little.

  Weeks into the game and Harry and I have already met up on countless occasions. I can't say no to him and I'm slowly seeing Katherine has competition rather than the innocent woman she is. I need him to want me more than her. Make me worth more than her.

  He finally resumed contact after weeks of silence, blaming work. I had to forgive in order to maintain some balance of power and he responded well to my pliancy. I then continued to push and pull at his lust strings. Giving him a little, but never quite enough. Pleading that I don't want to have my heart broken.

  My hand and mouth gives him a
taste of what's to come, but only if he pays the price. At every meeting, he showers me with compliments and flowers and of course I have been given the graduation gig. That was given to me when he finally resumed his contact.

  After two or three weeks of silence I'd given up sulking and was preparing to accept that the game was well and truly over. Honestly a little relieved also. It meant I could move on and if the mood took me screw some nobody from the club. Then my phone rang.

  'This is Emma, Mr. Cobain's secretary. I am ringing to ask you to come in to discuss your bid for the graduation photographs.'

  A little dumbfounded, I manage to arrange a meeting later that day. Dressed in a smart black trouser suit and my hair neatly clipped in place, I arrive at the university where I'm ushered into a small room. With my hand sweaty from holding my portfolio, and nerves I try to concentrate on being professional. I secretly hope that this meeting doesn't involve Harry, because all the frustration of being ignored would surely brim to the surface.

  'I hope you've not been waiting long?'

  I turn to the scotch accent and breathe a sigh of relief. It's not Harry. Instead, a rather young good looking man enters the room offering me his hand.

  'No not at all,' I say. 'Leigh,' I offer.

  'I'm Thom, I'm Head of the Graduation Team and I've been asked to chat to you about the graduation.'

  'Great, I've brought some examples of my work for you to look over.'

  Thom takes it from me and looks down at my pictures. His copper hair shines in the light and his full lips fall into a small smile as he seems impressed. I'm now wishing I'd gone to university, because it seems that I may have missed a trick.

  This Thom looks nothing like a scrawny geek. In fact, he seems very sporty and the rumpled tousled look seems to be working for him very well. All too aware that I'm watching him, he lifts his eyes to meet mine and we both begin to speak at once.