The Boleyn Effect (The Boorman Ending)

The Boleyn
Effect

by Deborah.C.
Foulkes

Copyright 2012 Deborah.C.
Foulkes

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Deborah. C. Foulkes at

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Edition

This book may not be
reproduced, copied without consent from the author.

CHAPTER
ONE

'I'll take that
bet!'

Me and Clair
watch as George pulls off his clothes and prepares to prove us
wrong. A little game of Truth or Dare, but involving cash. So more
like Truth or Bet and the more alcohol involved the more risqué
it's becoming. Me and Clair shared a kiss. Clair's divulged that
she'd once had been involved in a threesome when she younger. This
of course peaks George's interest, but he's been given the
Don't even try it
look
from us both.

I refuse to choose truth.
A dare is much less painful. George knows an awful lot about me and
some of it not good and more importantly some that even Clair
doesn't know. So for the sake of my own decency I'm choosing Dares
only.

Now butt naked, George is
out of the door and making his way down the corridor to the fire
escape and roof. Some of the guys from his floor that linger offer
wolf whistles and 'go on mate' encouragement and George laps it up
giving a quick twirl of what he has to offer.

Closing the door, we
scramble to the window where we lean out and listen. There's a
moment silence as we wait. I can't believe we are actually holding
our breath. The wind catches the sound of his voice as he sings out
God Save the Queen. Leaning out further, we can just about see him
on the edge of the roof in the way god intended.

'I can't believe he
actually did it,' Clair laughs.

'Really? Have you just met
George?' I ask.

We look at each other and
chuckle as he finishes the last line. We both know we are going to
have to top it. He's going to expect us to top it.

George pulls on his jeans
after collecting his winnings with a smug look on his face. It's
always too easy when it comes to challenging him. He's fearless and
doesn't give a damn and sometimes I envy him for it and other times
I just hate him.

'I told you I would do it.
Now it's your turn.'

'None of us are going to
sleep with you or get naked,' Clair says with a smirk on her
face.

George laughs out loud as
he pours himself a glass of Jack Daniels.

'Hey, you got to see mine.
Now return the favour.'

'Oh come on George it's
not like it's the first time, anyway we all know who you really
want naked,' Clair giggles looking my way.

I respond by throwing a
cushion at her. Trust her to bring that up yet again. How long have
we been friends? Enough to know that certain lines should not be
crossed, joking or otherwise. What George really wants from our
friendship should never be spoken or even joked about. Plus, she
knows it pisses me off.

'So have you decided on a
dissertation topic yet?' I ask.

'Ahh changing the
subject?' George laughs. 'I'll probably do something on Anne
Boleyn.'

Our groans interrupt him.
The Tudors and the second wife of Henry VIII has been an obsession
of George's ever since we've known him. Of course he's going to
dedicate a year of his life writing about the other woman in his
life.

Henry VIII was a
tyrannical bastard according to George, who hurt and manipulated
all those that loved him. He needed to be adored above all else and
when wasn't the consequences were severe. Admittedly, I have very
little knowledge of the Tudors apart from the TV series with a
rather gorgeous Jonathan Rhys Myers, but have to agree with George.
He did sound like a pretentious arse hole.

However, if I was a woman
of the Tudor court and faced with a man of power and riches would I
be just as quick to lift my skirt and lie on my back? I'm not
ashamed to say that probably, yeah. He was King.

'We'd have been more
surprised if you'd done it on Princess Di,' Clair says.

'Another wronged royal,'
George laughs taking another gulp of JD.

Our groans interrupt him
as do more flying cushions aimed at his head, which ducks so they
miss. We've all been friends for years and we have all heard the
same story over and over again about the bewitching dark haired
queen. How wronged she was by historians and how she was punished
for being ambitious. George's obsession has been his reason for
studying History at university, and why, to his father's
disappointment, continues to do his Masters in the Tudors instead
of the family business.

'Look, I bet none of you
could do what she did. Anne Boleyn was an amazing woman,' he
continues.

'None of us are disputing
that, but neither of us is that desperate to try,' Clair
comments.

I am starting to see
something in his face that not only makes me slightly nervous, but
excites me also. He's having a light-bulb moment as he eyes us like
prime prey. It's time for one of us to be challenged.

'That's it. That can be
your dare. I bet any of you that you can't do what she
did.'

Me and Clair look at each
other trying not to laugh. This is one of the stupidest things he's
ever asked of us.

'I think the heir to the
throne is married and a little old for even our tastes,' Clair
chuckles.

'I'm not talking kings,'
George sighs, 'but someone of high station. Like—I don't know— say
the Dean of my university?'

Unable to control
ourselves any longer, we crease up in laughter, both of us trying
to stop, but failing miserably. Frustration fills George's face at
our obvious childishness. He hates this side of us. Two girls
ganging up against him and not taking him seriously.

'I am being serious,' he
says, 'unless you girls don't think you are up to it.'

'Oh we're up to it,' Clair
laughs. 'But why would we?'

'Because it's a challenge
and I think you beautiful ladies are capable of it. If you both can
do it together it will be like Anne and Mary Boleyn all over
again.'

'Always the charmer,' I
murmur.

Now we've stopped
laughing. I'm starting to see something behind George's eyes that I
recognise. He's being totally serious and the challenge is not for
Clair it is aimed at me. He really doesn't want us to compete with
each other. He just wants me. I'm the dark-haired and eyed Boleyn
in his eyes. It's something he's always commented on. This
challenge is for me only and when he catches my eye, we both
understand one another.

'What is the challenge?' I
ask.

'You must get Harry
Cobain, a married man, to fall madly in-love with you.'

'Harry Cobain?' Clair
asks.

'The Dean,' George sighs
with exasperation giving me a look.

'And how are we supposed
to get close to him? You're the only student here,' Clair
asks.

Although we had been
friends for some years, for me and George it's much longer and the
connection we have is stronger. Clair still thinks its drunken
talk, but I know better. George likes to play games. We've done it
countless times. A bet here and there. A challenge to see who was
stronger, braver etc. Our friendship is competitive and always
about one-upmanship. All harmless fun and he knew I hated
losing.

'My father is an investor
at the Uni. Leave all those details to me,' George says, his eyes
still on mine.

'And why would we try and
sleep with another woman's man?' I ask.

George straightens up so
he's now cross legged on the floor instead of lounging.

'What if I told you that
the wife needs a reason to leave that husband? Plus I never said
anything about sex.'

I glance towards Clair
who’s wearing a puzzled frown.

'Then surely said wife
would just leave,' Clair answers.

'Not if said wife was
financially trapped to said husband,' George says almost mimicking
Clair.

'Then it's none of our
business so count me out,' Clair announces.

George sighs and turns his
attention towards me causing me to shift uncomfortably under both
their stares.

'Come on Leigh, I need to
do something really amazing for my dissertation and this could be
it. It's a challenge and you have got to admit a bloody good
one.'

'What about this Harry
Cobain's wife?'

George smiles, because he
already knows he's halfway to convincing me.

'I can't explain it all
right now, but I do know she wants out and you could be the key to
getting that to happen.'

'And what do I get out of
it?' I ask.

'Leigh!'

Clair gives me a shocked
look and all I can do is shrug as a large smile emerges on George's
face. He knows damn well I'd take the bait.

'What do I get?' I
repeat.

'That studio you've been
saving up to buy. I will give you the deposit but only if I get
enough material for my dissertation.'

'What if it doesn't work?
What happens then?'

'Then you pay the
forfeit.'

I swallow nervously. This
doesn't feel good. George's forfeits are notoriously harsh and I
have a feeling it's going to be a steep one.

'I'm not sure,' I say and
I hear Clair take a sigh of relief.

George is now in front of
me, his hands in mine. The smell of Jack Daniel's strong on his
breath and I'm beginning to regret the amount I've
downed.

'Ok, let's put this
another way. If you succeed and I get my dissertation out of it
then to sweeten the pot I'll officially wipe our slate
clean.'

My heart is pounding hard
and I can barely breathe. Surely it can't be that simple. I've
notched up a lot of chalk marks on that slate and it's one of the
reasons, that I've often wondered why we are still close after all
these years.

'Totally clean?' I
question.

He gives me a
nod.

'And the forfeit?' I
ask.

Now George moves from his
knees and edges closer to where I sit on his floor. His mouth
touches my ear as he whispers and I move quickly away. I have no
idea why I'm shocked at his request. It had been only a matter of
time before he held it over me. A pact that we'd made once when we
were drunk, except now he wants it to be cemented.

Another drunken challenge
where we said that if we were not married by the time we were in
our thirties we would marry each other, and George has already
reached his third decade, and I'm slowly catching up. If I fail,
then we would set a date. He wants me to marry him and become
his.

'You guys are mental and I
am having nothing to do with this,' Clair mutters.

She's always the sensible
one out of the three. Even when drunk, she always keeps an even
head. She loves our games, but where George and me go much further
in our game playing she is first to say enough. The best position
to be in when it comes to us. The one to keep us on the straight
and narrow.

'What do I have to
do?'

'The rules are you do
everything I tell you to. You seduce Harry Cobain using the same
tricks as Anne Boleyn.'

'You said no sex?' I
ask.

'Anne Boleyn managed to
keep her virginity from Henry for three years. I want him to fall
in love without using sex.'

Deep down I know that this
is wrong and there is no way it’s going end well. Seriously!
Stealing another woman's man is never a good idea, game or
otherwise. I mean kissing random guys is harmless fun. They are
never married. That has always been the clause. If we saw rings
then it would be off. This is so much more and very different. But
in that moment George has given me an ultimatum and there's no way
on this godforsaken planet that I'm going to become Mrs. George
Gaskill. But so much more than that is the slate. I desperately
want that wiping clean. That there is my incentive. I will owe
George Gaskill nothing. Our friendship will at last be an equal
one.