The Boleyn Effect (The Boorman Ending) (17 page)

Sam, my younger brother
still lives at home and in the middle of his A Levels. We clash
like any other siblings and my homecoming is no different as he
remains in his room with no word of Hi.

You would think that the
ten year age gap between me and Sam would mean I'd feel protective
of him, but I never have. He's always been nothing but a pain in my
arse. Always demanding our mums attention and she in return giving
it. I know it's jealousy, but where Sam had our mum, I had my
dad.

You see in the back of my
mind I know I wasn't planned. My parents were seventeen when I came
unexpectedly into the world. Whereas Sam was planned. Ten years of
miscarriages and one stillborn that is never talked about and Sam
came along.

The blessed wanted child
and that's what I saw when he came along. The child my parents
desperately wanted rather than the accident. A little self-pitying
I know, but I'm also adult enough to know that. So, yeah, our
relationship is a tense one to say the least.

The drive to Kettering had
been a draining one. It shouldn't have been, but early morning
traffic and a few motorway accidents had messed up an easy run.
That coupled with still feeling sore from Harry's assault on my
body made the journey feel longer. Not that I minded the soreness.
It was a reminder of where he'd been and just how good he felt
there.

Still, I had taken the
opportunity to listen to my latest playlist courtesy of Harry. A
collection of punk hits to remind me of what I was getting into.
The sort of man who was creeping under my skin. After being home
for a few hours my phone rings, and going outside I press the
answer button.

'What do you want?' I
snap.

'I can't believe you just
fucked off,' George throws back. 'You have become a real stress
head.'

'Is this an
apology?'

I can hear George sighing
and for a moment there is silence.

'That's what I meant to
do, but then...look, Leigh...I don't want to fight about this. I
was really worried when I found you gone.'

'Really, I presumed you'd
be busy with Clair.'

I hear him
chuckle.

'You know what, for
someone who doesn't give a damn about me, you're very jealous.
Clair and I are just having a bit of fun.'

'I've slept with
Harry.'

George hisses a breath on
the phone. I've winded him I can tell. Admittedly it's heartless
for me to just blurt it out, but I want a reaction and I've got
one.

'What happened to playing
by the rules?' he asks.

'Well, I wanted to make
sure that I won, so I changed them and you'd be interested to know
that it worked. When I get back he's starting to divorce
proceedings. He's leaving her for me.'

'Don't count your chickens
yet Leigh. Saying and doing it are two different things. I did give
you six months. Don't rush it remember he's got to love
you.'

'I believe he does,' I
answer.

'Well, if he does then the
money will be in your account and it's over.'

'And what about us?' I
ask.

'Leigh, one fight isn't
going to make me feel any different about you and I'm an
arsehole.'

I smile as I offer
forgiveness. At least we're alright. This game is nearly over and
then we can get back to normality.

'Shall I drive down?' he
asks.

I find myself starting to
say yes, but then I stop.

'You know what no,' I say.
'I just want the weekend with by myself. Give me time.'

George sighs on the end of
the phone and I'm hoping he will respect me enough to leave
it.

'Okay. Tell your mum hi
from me.'

I breathe out a sigh of
relief. 'I will.'

To celebrate my
homecoming, my mum cooks a weekday roast. It smells divine as she
dishes it out. My mums cooking is the reason I love coming home and
it's something I never inherited from her. I am just not that
domesticated. If it goes in the oven or microwave then I'm
fed.

I whine as my mum takes a
full plate upstairs to my brother, but I only get a rolling of eyes
from my dad. Sam is the baby and gets treated as such and it winds
me up every time. But at least I get my parents all to myself while
we eat and I take advantage, telling them all about my
work.

'And what about you and
George? Are you still friends?' my mum asks.

'Of course we are still
friends. Why would you ask?'

'You know what I mean.
He's a nice boy from a good family, you could do worse. Or is there
someone else.'

'Mum, please don't do this
again,' I whine. 'I am free and single and I wouldn't care if
George was the heir to the throne me and him are not
happening.'

'There's no need for that
tone,' she chastises. 'I just want to see you settled. I was
married with you and brother by the time I was your
age.'

'Anne, leave her alone.
She's just got different plans for herself,' my dad steps
in.

My dad gives me a grin and
my mum shakes her head at us both.

'Is it a crime to want the
best for my daughter,' she says.

'No, but it is to nag her
death,' I joke.

Now she smiles and the
atmosphere lightens. It's always the same argument with us both. I
know what she's after. Now Sam and I are grown up, she wants
grandchildren and I know she's pictured those gorgeous
grandchildren fathered by George. But it's not going to happen. For
one, I am none too keen with being saddled with kids at my age. I
just about cope well with them at work.

After dinner, I curl up on
the sofa watching the Soaps, something I only ever do when I'm
home. I have no idea what I'm watching, but it holds my attention
for a short while. My dad is reading a paper and for once we're
alone. These times with my dad always makes me feel safe and
secure. I am very much like him in many ways. Easy going and
dependable. Well that was until I got myself entangled in this
game.

'So are you going to tell
me what's really going on?' my dad asks.

The paper rests on his
knee as he looks at me. I swallow hard the problem with being just
like my dad is that he can always read me.

'Nothing is going on?' I
answer.

'Leigh-Anne, you've not
been home since Christmas. Is it George?'

'Why do you think George
has anything to do with anything? Can't I just come home some
time?'

'You are deflecting. You
know you can talk to me.'

I get up and crawl on my
dad's lap and hug him. Unlike my mum he's very aware and suspicious
of George. In his mind George is too much of a smart arse who
doesn't need to work. But then I am my dad's princess and any guy
would never be good enough. I wonder briefly how he'd feel if he
knew I was carrying on with a man near his own age. Flip his lid no
doubt.

'I love you so much,' I
say.

'Ditto,' he laughs. 'Now
get off my knee and let me read this paper.'

My mum walks in as we
finish laughing, carrying mugs of coffee. She gives us a suspicious
look, but doesn't ask any questions. Always a Daddy's Girl and that
is not going to change.

Slipping in my old bed
feels so good as I sink beneath the freshly laundered duvet cover.
The walls are still covered with my old posters of rock bands and
movie stars. That was a lifetime ago and it already feels like I've
changed. This thing is changing me. But then what sort of woman
goes into this anyway. I am asking for trouble. Me and my ego. Just
as my eyes start to close my phone beeps.

'Missing you
already. Enjoy the break and don't forget me. Yours H
x'

'I could never
forget. Always Mine. L X'

I fall asleep with a smug
smile on my face. The rest is just a formality. He's as good as
mine and this six month thing is ridiculous. There's no time limit
on love and if he does love me then he will be mine.

'But he can't
keep you
,' George reminds me in my
head.

'If he leaves
his wife then who says he can't
,' I smirk
as I drift on to sleep.

The following morning I'm
woken abruptly by Eminem playing at an obscene level. Getting up, I
bang on Sam's bedroom door.

'Hey, jerk off some of us
are trying to sleep.'

The door is thrown open
and there looking like some badly dressed gangsta rapper is my
seventeen year old brother. There's faint smell of weed and body
sweat coming from his room and I roll my eyes. His shaved head
gives him a brutish look, but he's also very scrawny and couldn't
fight his way out of a paper bag, although he's like to think he's
as hard as nails.

'Why don't you go back
where you came from bitch,' he snarls.

'I am back where I came
from dick,' I throw back.

Slamming the door in my
face, the music is turned up louder and giving in I decide I may as
well get up. My parents are out which explains the obscene level of
my brother's music. I grab some breakfast and my phone starts to
ring. The number is withheld and for a moment I consider ignoring
it, but changing my mind I press the answer.

'Hello?'

'Hi,' comes the coy
reply.

Grinning, I go to the
living room and curl up on the sofa.

'What's with the withheld
number?' I ask.

Harry laughs. 'I'm just
being careful. I'm using another phone.'

'Oh,' disappointment fills
my voice.

All what George said about
counting my chickens seems to be founded. He does just want to keep
me as his mistress. The girl he can fuck whenever he likes and
still be able to go home.

'What I said still
stands,' Harry says. 'I've just got to be careful, you understand
that don't you?'

'Yes,' I manage to say.
'You shouldn't ring then. That would be safer.'

'Don't be like that. I've
missed you.'

'I've only been gone one
night.'

'One night too long. Did I
wake you?'

'No I was up,' I
answer.

'So all showered and
dressed?'

The question brings a
smirk to my face.

'Not yet, why?'

'Are you alone,' he
asks.

Eminem is still playing
loudly above me.

'Sort of.'

'Tell me what you're
wearing.'

I look down at my fleece
onesie and smirk. Not really sexy, but what he doesn't know won't
hurt.

'I am wearing shorts and a
vest. Very tight and very skimpy.'

I hear him take a
breath.

'I'm in my office right
now and what I wouldn't give to see you sprawled on my
desk.'

'Would you prefer sir or
professor?' I ask.

'I think sir would do
nicely. Not that you'd be able to speak once I'd finished with
you.'

'You talk the talk sir,' I
tease.

Mindlessly my hand circles
my breast as I thumb my nipple and I find that I've sunk down upon
the sofa.

'You know full well I can
walk the walk,' he chuckles huskily. 'If you were here right now,
I'd make you sit on my desk all open and ready for me. I'd then
take off you panties and kiss and lick you until you were wet on my
tongue.'

Unzipping the onesie, I
start to stroke and probe myself. Groaning out, I hear Harry on the
phone say my name in a breathy whisper.

'Are you touching
yourself?' he barely croaks.

'Yes,' I breathe. 'Tell me
more. I want more.'

'Tell me what you feel
like first,' he breathes.

'I'm so wet and hot and
it's all for you. Tell me what you're going to do to
me.'

'I would make you orgasm
in my mouth. Then while you're still hot and wet, I would sink my
long hard cock inside you. Feel all your insides clenching and
taking me. All of me.'

With both feet on the
floor I am riding my fingers gently. I find I am matching Eminem's
rapping rhythm from the music upstairs and the mere fact that I
could be caught having phone sex in my parents living room drives
me harder.

'More,' I manage to
say.

I hear Harry's staggered
heavy breathing and I can tell his suppressing his own sexual
groans. Both of us in places where we could get caught.

'While sliding in and out
so slowly I would suckle each breast, flicking your nipples with my
tongue until you beg me...'

'Beg you to
what?'

'To fuck you
hard.'

'Then do it. Turn me over
Harry, bend me over your desk and fuck me.'

'God I so want to,' he
groans through gritted teeth. 'God help me Leigh, I want to fuck
you right now.'

'Do me and do me hard,' I
groan, my fingers working frantically.