The Boleyn Effect (The Boleyn Ending)

by Deborah. C. Foulkes

  As I dance, I see that Harry and George are looking my way and watching. George's lips are moving and I can tell by Harry's tense face that he's winding him up. Suddenly, Harry turns to George and says something before he disappears. I try and see where he's gone and then he's coming towards me.

  With a tense smile on his face, Harry pushes his way to me and the men all disappear as if by magic. Grabbing my waist, he pulls me close and I wrap my arms around his neck.

  'I'm not good at the dancing thing,' he shouts.

  George is seething. I can see it in his face. He wanted Harry to fail at this. He wanted to show him up and it isn't working.

  'Let's get out of here.'

  We crash out of the club and Harry drags me to a small back alley and pushes me into the wall. There's a strong smell of the bins and piss, but with lust ripping its way through my body I'm beyond caring.

  'I've thought about nothing but having those heels around my waist,' he mutters.

  He pulls at my shorts and I step out of them hurriedly trying to maintain balance in these damn heels. I start to kick them off for balance, but Harry shakes his head.

  'You really need to leave those on.'

  As he straightens, I pull at his jeans and free him. I don't get a chance to admire before he's lifting and inside me with my heels pressed against his backside.

  'You're going to tire me out,' he groans as he pounds. 'But I can't get enough.'

  Again there is the smell of the river mixed with the normal river side crap. People are passing by unaware of us, but I am almost positive that George is watching from somewhere he can't be seen.

  If he wants a show of everything he's missing out on then so be it. In fact it's such a turn on to think of him watching us. I fling my head against the wall and press my heels further against Harry's naked waist.

  Harry is chanting my name into my hair. With one hand pressed against the wall and the other holding me against him. His frantic pounding tell me he's about to explode inside me and I am just about ready to join him. And I want George to see just how Harry gets me there.

  I bury my head into his shoulder to suppress my cries. He comes soon after and nearly drops me as we collapse against the wall. He holds me against him as our breathing evens out and his shuddering eases.

  A warm trickle runs down my legs as he pulls from me. He's getting careless again. Just like with the last one. Is this what she did to him? This other girl? Make him careless and uncontrolled? I start to mention it, but then change my mind. I can't think about her. Not when I have Katherine to think about, plus, I have it covered even if he hasn't.

  Grabbing my bag, I pull out some feminine wipes and clean myself up. A girl's must have in any handbag as well as a spare pair of pants just in case.

  'What was George saying to you?' I ask after a moment.

  Harry lifts his head up and strokes a strand of hair away from my face.

  'He just loves you. I get that,' Harry answers. 'Do you mind?'

  He holds out his hand and I pass him a wipe.

  'Just tell me,' I push.

  'He told me that a man like me will never be able to keep hold of a girl like you. That I am too old and it won't take you long to move on.'

  He tosses the wipe and pushes himself back into his trousers. Inwardly I'm seething. This is out of control. I honestly can't believe George. This is all his idea and yet he seems to be trying to sabotage his own work. Unless he really does want me to lose.

  'And do you believe him?'

  Harry pulls from his pocket my shorts and hands me them. I didn't even see him put them there. I pull them on using Harry to keep balance.

  'I'm old enough to be you're father, Leigh. Maybe he has a point,' he says.

  'You're thinking about this far too much and quite frankly I am fucking sick of this George loves me crap. He does this all the time. When I like someone he gets jealous and tries to ruin it. At the end of the day Harry, you and I have something, and whether it lasts a few more days or a few years, I don't care. Let's just enjoy it. Age is just a number and you know damn well you satisfy me.'

  A grin lights up his face. 'Yes I do, unless you're a great actress.'

  I grab and hold him against me.

  'You could have kept my shorts as a keepsake,' I whisper in his ear.

  He looks down at me and smiles.

  'Wearing that dress I'd rather you kept them on. I'm none too keen on other men seeing what's mine. They're seeing enough as it is.'

  'But it's you that got to be inside its wearer,' I counter with a flirty twirl.

  Harry grabs my arm and stops me in mid twirl. A frown darkening his face causes me to suddenly worry.

  'And am I the only one?' he asks.

  'What do you mean?'

  'I mean there is no one else. Is it just me?'

  I move my arm from him and face his way.

  'You go home to Katherine every night.'

  'That's not an answer,' he mutters.

  'It kinda is but if I need to say it then there's only you, but only because you told me that you no longer sleep with Katherine. If that changes then you have no right to tell me stay exclusive.'

  He moves towards me and takes my face in his hands and forces me to look him in the eye.

  'Just so we are clear I am not having sex with my wife and so you and I are exclusive.'

  I nod slowly and he places his lips on mine. I am a little surprised that he's turned all possessive all of a sudden and the declaration makes me nervous. But I've got to push it down and away.

  We leave arm in arm and grab a taxi back to mine where he proceeds to have me again, minus dress, hot pants and heels. Of course, he's gone again by morning, but I am OK with it. But George is another matter entirely.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  'You're a fucking knob, you know that,' I shout.

  George stands in his room, half-dressed looking like butter wouldn't melt.

  'I'm sure I have no idea what you mean,' he says.

  'You know damn well. What possessed you to one...go to Harry and tell him you knew about us and two...to tell him that he's too old for me.'

  'For your information, he found me after one of my classes and offered to take me for coffee. He wanted to talk about my studies, but I'm not stupid he was soon fishing for information about you. I also wanted to check for myself what the state of play was. This is my investment and case study after all. And all I've had is your word on how things are going.'

  'And my word isn't good enough,' I hiss.

  'Well clearly it is,' George says. 'He's smitten. Almost head over heels, I'd say. But he thinks you're a safe bet, Leigh. That's the problem. I just wanted him to see how easily he could lose you. It's all for your benefit. You'll thank me for it one day.'

  'I doubt that very much,' I sneer.

  'It is funny that once he thinks he's got you, you have to then tell him it's over. That arsehole is going to pay big time,' George laughs.

  'This is just a fucking game to you.'

  'Well yeah. Life is a fucking game and Anne Boleyn played it well.'

  'Yeah so well she ended up with her head chopped off,' I throw.

  George comes towards me and tries to pull me into a hug, but I step away.

  'Leigh, come on babe, it's only because I love you...'

  'No, love has nothing to do with it. If you loved me then we wouldn't be doing this in the first place. This is about possession and control. You can't have me physically and so you try and have me emotionally and mentally. Well I've had enough of this shit from you. No more. You don't own me George.'

  George takes a step back and his face is reddening with anger at my accusation. This is one of the only times I've truly stood up to him.

  'It's funny that you say that, yet when you were face first in that damn gutter in Greece, nearly ODing on some shit, some latest fuck had given you, you didn't mind me taking control then. Or when you wanted to start your own business, you didn't mind me giving y
ou the cash to get started. But hey, I thought it's what friends did and yeah I may have wanted a fuck every now and then...you can't blame a guy for trying, but I've done nothing but respect and love you. Maybe my father was right about you after all.'

  My hand rings from the slap I've just given him and as he raises his own hand I hold still, raising my face. Daring him to take that last step. But he doesn't as he turns away from me stiffly.

  'You want your money then fine. I'll find it and give you back every penny. That way you won't keep holding it over me,' I hiss.

  Slamming the door behind me, I hear George shout out to me.

  'I won't ever let him keep you and if he tries I'll fucking ruin everything and then let's see who you come crying to.'

  The tears start to really fall. I can't cope with this any longer. The problem is is that I have nowhere to run to. I'm trapped inside my own game and the only player I feel I can run to I can't because he's not truly mine yet. I try anyway and dial Harry's number.

  'Why are you ringing?'

  I start at his abruptness and I find I'm floundering for words.

  'I...I need to see you,' I say.

  I can hear him moving and a door opening and closing.

  'I can't talk right now. What's going on? Are you crying?'

  'It's nothing. I just want to see you.'

  He sighs down the phone and it's a moment before he speaks.

  'Sweetheart, I want to see you too, but I can't just leave here. Kat has family over.'

  'Fine,' I snap. 'Forget it! I'll leave you to your family.'

  'Leigh-Anne, come on. You know the deal.'

  'Yeah, I certainly do.'

  'Look, I need some time. I'll try and get away. I'll call when I'm on my way to yours.'

  I wait all day and night for him to call. Sitting in my flat in my PJ's crying into bottles of wine I am the epitome of sadness. Anne Boleyn maybe not, more like a fucked up Bridget Jones. Eventually the phone beeps with a message and it wakes me from my drunken slumber. It's half past two in the morning and it's from Harry.

  'Sorry I couldn't get away.'

  No kiss or the signature H on the end of the message. Just sorry I couldn't get away. This is the reality of sleeping with a married man. They can never be there for the hard times. They can't wipe away the tears or curl up and hug away all the badness. It's all about the fun and nothing more. I needed him and he couldn't be there. Katherine won this battle, but the problem is is that I'm not sure I can even win the war.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  Two weeks of being totally alone has been torture. There's been Clair who comes to work promptly, but even she's been a little cagey. I realise now that I have crossed the line with both Harry and George.

  I am now in my studio trying to work out how much more I owe George in between clients. But I miss him so much and I am damn grateful for everything he's ever done for me. We had a good thing going between us, even though sex seemed to always get in the way.

  At the end of the day this thing with Harry is not going to last. Whether there's a bet or not. It's as good as over. I can't keep him, because he won't allow anyone to keep him. Even his wife is struggling. Maybe marrying George is not such an ordeal after all. That way I won't be alone anymore. Yes he's a shit and I fucking hate him right now, but he does love me and that says a hell of a lot. I will always have my best friend.

  'Leigh?'

  I raise my head from my laptop as Clair enters my office. My head spins at the sudden change from screen to reality. I should really eat. These dizzy spells are starting to become far too common.

  'A parcel has come for you. It needs to be signed.'

  'We've not ordered anything have we?' I ask.

  'Not that I'm aware of.'

  Getting to my feet, I struggle for a moment. There are some cakes in the fridge somewhere. I'll grab them first. Leaving my office and leaving the courier standing, I pull out a box of Jaffa Cakes and start to munch one.

  'Where do you need me to sign?' I ask.

  He holds out some handheld block for me to scribble on the screen, then turns and leaves. It's addressed to me, but god knows what it is. I've probably ordered some new equipment and totally forgotten all about it.

  'Are you OK? You look awfully pale,' Clair asks.

  It's the first time she's even acknowledge or even asked about my health in weeks and though I want to scream at her, I also feel like crying at her concern.

  'I just need to eat,' I say. 'Will you chuck us those scissors?'

  She hands me them and carefully I slice through the parcel tape and rummage in the polystyrene balls. My fingers catch something and carefully I pull out a brand new SLR camera. The most top of the range gadget on the market. I hear Clair gasp from behind me and I see it's ready to be fired up. Pressing the on button I see on the screen there are photos of George holding a letter on each shot all spelling I AM COCK FORGIVE ME.

  I can't help but smile. He very rarely says sorry. It's always I'm a dick or a cock and that's it. Then the last picture he holds a sign saying look in the box, which I do and there I find the contract we'd signed ripped into little pieces.

  'Clair, I really need to eat, can you go on a sandwich run?'

  'I told you, you have a hold over him,' she mutters as she grabs her jacket.

  As soon as she leaves, I pick up the phone and dial his number.

  'I take it you got it,' he says.

  'I did. It was very sweet, but I should apologise too.'

  'No you shouldn't. I do hold it against you, and I am jealous of Harry. I love you so much, but if I can only have you as a friend then so be it.'

  'And I love having you as my friend. I've missed you.'

  'Let me take you out. You know to your favourite place. Tonight. I'll pick you.'

  Later that evening, I am dressed and ready to be taken out. Strict instructions from George are to dress up. If he's spending so much money then he really must be sorry.

  'You look beautiful as always,' he says as he greets me.

  'I try my best,' I answer with a smile.

  'Let's go or we'll be late.'

  A taxi ride later we pull up outside The Priory Lock. One of the most expensive and trendiest restaurants in town and I'm impressed. It used to be nothing more than a group of boat houses and was eventually knocked into one big place. The walls are bare brick with low arches and atmospheric candle and low light. The food is good and homemade and George knows how much I love the place. As we wait in the foyer, he pulls me away slightly and he looks worried all of a sudden.

  'Leigh, I don't want to do this over dinner, because I want us to have a good time, but as your friend I feel like I need to say this.'

  'Go on,' I say.

  'You and Harry...'

  'For crying out loud,' I interrupt.

  'Wait, hear me out. I think you need to slow it down with him. Maybe not see him for a week or two. It will prove how much he loves you if he waits.'

  Not wanting to admit that Harry hasn't called either, I play along. I don't want George knowing that Harry's interest is cooling, because I can't cope with looking like a failure in front of him.

  'I don't need to make him wait to know he loves me.'

  'As he told you that he loves you yet?'

  'No, but I can tell,' I protest.

  'Leigh, any man can look like he's in love while you're riding him,' George says.

  'I don't think I'm hungry anymore,' I say pulling away.

  George holds me firm. 'It's only because I love you that I am saying these things. I don't want you getting hurt.'

  'And I won't,' I snap, then sighing I give in. Just as I always do. 'Let's just forget it and eat.'

  A waiter takes us to our table and as we weave through the other guests my heart stops. There sitting in a small corner is Harry and Katherine. George glances my way and shrugs.

  'I swear I had no idea,' he says.

  'I want to go,' I say, already backing out.

>   'Leigh, George.'

  Too late. Katherine has already noticed us and waves us over. Catching Harry's eye I shake my head, trying to let him know I want to leave. The problem is is that he looks as trapped as I am.

  'Fancy seeing you here,' Katherine gushes. 'Why don't you join us?'

  'It's ok Leigh and I are having a catch up,' George offers. 'Plus you two look far too cosy for us to gate-crash.'

  'Nonsense, we've not even ordered yet...waiter!'

  Katherine gets her wish and soon we are ushered onto a table for four at the further end of the restaurant. As if sitting between George and Harry isn't enough, but my seating position means I am directly opposite Katherine. Her dark eyes watching mine as we order food.

  'So, Leigh did you get all those contacts I sent your way?' she asks.

  'I did thank you,' I answer. 'I'm just following them all up.'

  I am aware of both George's and Harry's thighs touching mine and shifting slightly I lean towards Harry's and I feel a small jolt run though his muscles.

  'So how did the anniversary go?' I ask.

  She reaches over and grabs Harry's hand and kisses it. The blatant show of affection throws me and I grab my glass of wine to hide my discomfort.

  'It was fantastic, all thanks to you,' she says. 'In fact, I was going to ask...Harry, why don't you ask. It's all been your idea?'

  For the first time that evening Harry looks me in the eye. The sweat on his forehead tells me he's nervous. He should be, because I am. My heart pounds hard and I have to remember to not look at him so intently. I barely know him. Remember, I barely know him.

  'Ask me what?' I manage to ask.

  Silence descends as I wait with baited breath what they are going to ask me. Harry starts to laugh nervously. Surely out of the two of us he should be better at this then I am.

  'For god's sake, Harry,' Katherine laughs. 'Leigh, would you be our official photographer. Harry and I are renewing our vows.'

  'As in wedding vows?' I ask.