The Song of Songs

'Don't look so worried, Bathsheba,' called Anthony, as he guided me through the busy streets, ' you won't be doing anything you have not done before ... well almost anything '

He let out a laugh, as he gripped my wrist tighter and pulled me away from a gang of youths, who were eyeing the small bundle of belongings I held tightly in my free hand. This was my first time in London and I was terrified. I had never been in a city before and never seen so many people in my life. Everywhere I turned there was someone trying to sell me something, take advantage or simply push into me.

'Anthony, stop,' I called, feeling tears start to well in my eyes, 'I want to go back to St Agnes,'

Perhaps another reason for my fear was that this was the first time I had left the stone walls of St Agnes in three years. While I wouldn't say I'd been happy there, in fact, most of the time I'd miserable but I knew I was there to penitence for the many sins I'd committed.

Anthony heard me and we stop. He smiled that golden smile that had cause me to fall in love with him.

'Remember what I told you Bathsheba, the world is changing. Soon places like St Agnes will be gone. Any way would you not rather be here,'

I didn't know what to say. I knew deep down he was right about St Agnes. Over the last year, I had overheard many of the senior Sisters talk in harsh tones about the changes in the world since the King had left the Pope for Anne Boleyn. Some feared for their wealth but many feared for their life, after all many had only taken the veil as they had nowhere else to go, like me. But I also was there to do penance for my past sins and knew I would leave there when God had forgiven me. I felt God forgiveness, on that morning when Lord Cromwell's Inspectors had arrived and found that Anthony was one of them. I was so happy as I left with him that day, full of confidence that God had forgiven me and was leading me to salvation but now I was not so sure.

'What if Lord Cromwell doesn't like me,' I said, still trying to suppress my tears. I didn't want to work for Cromwell. My good friend-my only friend, Sister Cecily had told me he was Lucifer himself as I gathered my belongings on the day I left the nunnery. I had tried not to listen and forget her words but every night since I had been plagued by nightmares of torture that had caused me to wake screaming with terror. I had tried to talk to Anthony but he just laughed, as he did now.

'I'm sure Lord Cromwell has more important matters to worry about than whether he likes the new silly little serving girl. Besides, it'll not be forever. In a few years time we can marry and then we can find Magdalene. Doesn't that make you happy Bathsheba?'

He was right, it did make me happy and all my fear seemed to drain away. Marrying Anthony and most of all, to hold Magdalene once again in my arms, would truly be my Heaven on Earth.

I nodded eagerly and leaned forward to kiss him on the lips, but he moved too quickly, whisking me through the door of this grand house, for me to began the last stage of my penance.

****

Despite my fears, which had seen me lock myself in my room and prayer feverish with rosary in hand on my first night, I actually found I enjoyed myself there. For the first time in my short life, I found it easy to make friends among the other servants and every so often, in my trips to market, I would meet Anthony and we would slip away for a few moments together. I was so happy that I even manage suppress the memory of my past sins.

I did not meet Cromwell until a month after my arrival, though I did see him briefly from his office window, as I did the washing in the yard. It was late one evening and I'd been sent to retrieve his dinner things from his office-apparently he regularly ate his meals there since the death of his wife. I walked slowly to his office, praying to God that he would long since have retired to bed and leaving me to clear the room in peace, without hearing Cecily's words echo around my head. But as my knock on the door was greeted with the cry of enter, I began to panic.

Cromwell was sat at the far end on the room, at a desk covered with piles of papers, his head bent over his work, as he was busy writing.

'Sorry, sir,' I tried not to stutter, after all I had already dealt with one monster in my life, but no one had ever described my father Lucifer and darkness of the room filled me with a sense of foreboding, 'I've come to collect your plates,'

'Oh of course,'

Still not looking away from his work, he motioned me to take the plates away but as I reached the desk, he suddenly looked up.

'Bathsheba, is it not?'

Although hearing him addressing me my christen name unnerved, seeing him properly in the flesh for the first time, seemed to calm me. I imagined a monster, but what I saw was a man, who was smiling kindly at me.

'Yes, sir,'

'Are you enjoying life here with us?'

'Yes, very much, sir,'

He gave a little laugh at this, which caused his eyes to briefly light up in the dimness of the room-though I could tell they had the ability to turn at any moment.

'Good, though imagine anywhere would be better than the restrictive life of the convent.'

I wasn't sure if this was a statement or a question, so I kept silent and busied myself with the plates.

'I see you do not agree with me Bathsheba?'

My hands started to shake at this question, causing the plates to almost fall from my hands.

'I won't bite Bathsheba,'

'It's not that I don't agree, sir,' I said, trying to make my voice sound steady but it still continued to shake, 'but I was there for a reason.'

'Ah'

'And even Hell itself was better than living with my father,' I added quickly before he could ask what had brought me to St Agnes.

Once again he gave a small laugh but this time he asked no more questions and returned his attention to the papers on his desk. I took the plate, my hands still trembling a little and left.

****

After that first meeting, I let out a laugh every time I remembered Cecily's words and how they'd filled me with terror. True, Cromwell did not appear to be a man of great warmth but he was no devil either. He always smiled and said hello to me, asked me how I was, every time I collected his dinner plates. Thankfully, he asked me no more about St Agnes and what had brought me to their door.

The only thing that hurt in weeks since that evening, was that Anthony came to see me less and less. Gone were the days when he would hang round the market waiting for me. Most of my days in London were now spent in my own company, but Anthony had his reasons. He was busy on business for Lord Cromwell, he said and I didn't question him. After all neither of us could afford to lose our positions, but perhaps a wiser woman would have started to ask questions. Unfortunately, I am not wise, for if I was my life would have been very different.

'Bathsheba,' called Anthony, staggering towards me through the market place, before being ill at my feet, 'Bathsheba,'

He smelt of drink, a smell I always associate with my father, so that as he went to put his arm round me I pushed him away.

'You're drunk!'

He laughed in almost the same cruel manor my father use to when he was worse for wear, but unlike my father Anthony had that golden smile that made me love him no matter what.

'Come on, Anthony,' I sighted putting my arm around waist and letting him lean on me, 'let's get you home,'

I had only ever seen Anthony's house from a distance and up close I was amazed how grand it was-almost as grand as Cromwell's. It was his parents London residence and if I was seen, it would surely be the end of everything. I took Anthony around to the side entrance and got him to sit on to the top step. He slumped against the door frame, his eyes closed as he were simple asleep. I could help but smile as I turned to leave-he always did look like angel when he was asleep.

'Bathsheba...Bathsheba,' he started to groaned. He sounded so pathetic causing me to turn round. He was trying to get to his feet, only he was stumbling and about to fall. I ran to him and manage to catch hold.

'Sit down and be quiet, if anyone finds me here then we'll be done for!'

'Cromwell,' he mumbled, as I got him back on the kitchen step, 'Cromwell. I have to deliver a message for Cromwell.'

Once again he tried to get to his feet and once again he failed.

'You're in no state!' I barked but I felt a pain in the pit of my stomach. He could not risk to loss Lord Cromwell's employment. I swallowed a lump that back of my throat as I added, 'I'll take it,'

'You! You'll never make it passed the guards,' he drunkenly sneered but he soon relented as he threw up. He gave me a sealed letter with Cromwell's seal and off I hurried to the Inns of Court. I delivered the letter with no problems, though some of the men at the Inns stared as though they had never seen a woman before, and was soon back home helping in the kitchen. I cursed Anthony under my breath as I chopped the carrots but persuaded myself that this was all a mistake and soon Anthony would be the kind charming boy I'd fell in love with all those years ago.

I then pushed it from my mind, until I was summoned to Cromwell's office. Standing outside the room, I felt so sick with fear, that my hands started to trembled as I knocked and as I heard him call enter, I crossed myself.

'Bathsheba,' he said, 'if you could just wait a moment,'

I nodded and did a clumsy curtsy, as I noticed Anthony was sat in front of Cromwell's desk, his back towards me.

'Now Anthony, you did deliver my letter straight into the Chief Justice's hands, like I commanded,'

'Of course,' Anthony replied, but his voice was shaking, 'why is he saying otherwise?'

Cromwell smiled as he got up from his desk and walked around to where Anthony was sat.

'No, far from it, in fact. I have called you here Anthony because I was wondering why in his reply he asked,' he paused as he reached for a piece of paper from the desk, 'since when were you in the habit of employing women to do your dirty work... If this practice is to continue could you please refrain from sending women of such beauty, as they distract the young clerks. He then goes on to describe the woman as having long auburn hair and eyes so green they were almost bewitching. Shall I go on Anthony?'

Anthony looked like a naughty schoolboy, as he hung his head in shame. It reminded me of the day his parents discovered that he was the reason I had Magdalene growing in my belly. I was paralysed with fear that day, as I was paralysed with it now.

'Get out of my sight, Anthony and leave Ba...my servants alone!' barked Cromwell, causing me to jump. The smile was now gone from his lips and his face full of anger. Anthony fled the room, almost knocking me over as he did.

I turned to leave but as I reach the door, Cromwell called me back.

'Bathsheba, please sit,'

His voice was once again kind but I was still wreaked with fear, as I slowly approach the chair Anthony had fled from. Cromwell returned to his chair opposite me, reaching for something from the his desk as he did so. Fearing it was my marching orders, I broke down in tears.

'Please sir, don't fire me! I was only trying to help, I didn't mean to cause trouble. I'll never do it again, I promise! Please, all my family are dead, I have nowhere else to go!'

By now tears where streaming down my face and my body was shaking violently with each sob.

'Bathsheba, you're going nowhere. Here dry you eyes'

He passed me a handkerchief and I did as I was told.

'That's better. Now I want you to have this,'

He handed my something else across the desk but it was not marching orders- it was a small purse, filled with money. I stared at it in my hands, not knowing what to say or do. Finally, I flicked my eyes up at Cromwell to take my cue.

'You did the work Bathsheba,' he said, businesslike, but with a soft edge, 'you deserve the wages,'

'Oh!' I replied in disbelief, 'thank you sir!'

I got to my feet, feeling that it was time to leave but once again I was called back.

'One of my inspectors brought this back from St Cuthbert's Priory.'

I turn back to the desk, as he placed a small wooden box on top of the pile of papers. Cromwell, opened the box and pulled out a pure white skull. Part of me wanted to pull back in horror but the other part was mesmerised by it.

'This skull once belonged to St Cuthbert, the Saint who saw versions of angels. Here have a closer look.'

I took it in my hand, trying not shake at touch of cold, hard bone. I looked over every inch of it, in ore of power of this relic, while Cromwell looked on, a smile returning to his lips.

'It's beautiful,' I whispered, handing him back the skull.

'I'm sure many others have felt the same as you, Bathsheba,' he said, placing the skull back in the box, 'I wonder how they would feel if they saw this.'

He placed another box on the table and produced another skull.

'Taken, shall we say from another part of the country. It is also the skull of St Cuthbert's'

I looked at the new skull, concentrating hard on the new pure white bone. I did not know what to say or how to feel.

'What do you feel, Bathsheba?'

I took the new skull from him, this time my hands not trembling. I looked it over more closely than the last and found that they were the same cold hard bone; they look like they could both have once belonged to St Cuthbert. People could easily prayer at both for peace and still believe it had been granted.

'If they give people hope, sir, surely that's a good thing?'

'Hope, should not be tricked from people,' he said, turning away from me and looking out of the window, over a night cover London, 'it's not a toy or a way to make money. It comes from the heart and God'

I stood there, not sure what to say or do next.

'I think it was time you were off to bed Bathsheba,'

'Yes, sir,'

I placed the skull carefully in the box, with the handkerchief bedside it and went to leave.

'Oh and Bathsheba,'

'Sir?'

I turn back but he still had is back to me, talking to over his shoulder, as if he part of him didn't want to face me.

'Whatever your relationship with Anthony Dixon, promise me your wages will go on you and you alone,'

'Yes, sir,' I said with curtsey, before adding, 'goodnight sir,'

'Goodnight, Bathsheba,'

And with that I left.

****

I did what I was told and on my next journey to market, I used my coins to buy some fabric for a new dress. It was a beautiful pale green, not practical for work but that didn't cross my mind, as I felt something pull me towards it. I still have the dress among my things and from time to time I take it out to run my fingers over the fabric, to remember how the day I first wore it my life changed forever.

I saw Anthony everyday that week and he seemed genuinely sorry, for the trouble he had caused. I felt so happy and once again my dreams were filled with the thought of Anthony, me and Magdalene living happily together. That's why on the morning of day I wore my new dress, told me it was over, tell me I was a fool to believe he would ever marry me and that the only reason I took me away from St Agnes because of guilt, I was completely in shock.

Not knowing what to say or do, I walked back to the house as if in a trance. But the moment I walked through the door to the kitchen, I broke down in tears. I had no future now, I would never see my daughter again and was trapped in this house for the rest of my days-God had not and never would forgive me.

I cried all day, so much so that my head throbbed with pain and my eyes began to bulge. I only stopped when Mrs Scharp slapped me across the face and told me to pull myself together, Lord Cromwell had guests coming for dinner and she did not need an hysterical maid on her hands.

Trying my best to remain calm, I went about my jobs as best I could and managed to suppress my tears deep within, so that I managed to convince Mrs Scharp's that nothing was wrong. But all that changed once I saw who Lord Cromwell's dinner guests where.

Seeing Anthony sat at around table with the others, almost caused me to send the beef I was carrying flying, but I managed to hold on-after all, if I lost my place I would be in an even worse position than I was now. I keep myself together and Anthony couldn't even look my in the eyes, (nor could he look at Cromwell's for that matter).

'I trust you can forgive my future son-in-law, Lord Cromwell. After all we were all young once,'

I watched as this man slapped Anthony, in a fatherly way, on the back. I listen more closely as I helped lay the food down on the table, needing desperately to know what was meant by 'son-in-law'

'True,' said Lord Cromwell, though I swear he was looking at me and not at the man addressing him.

'You don't sound convince, sir,' continued the man, ' well I swear on my honour I that I would not let young Anthony marry I'm eldest daughter if...'

'Marry!' I called out, forgetting all sense of the place as I felt pain and anger build up with in me.

'Shut up, Bathsheba,' sneered Anthony out of the side of his mouth.

It was then I suddenly snapped. My father was always telling me to shut up, I've spent my life having to shut up. In St Agnes, some of the elder Sisters were always telling me to hold me tongue and I always did but not now. I saw red, my blood boil with anger, as everything I had believed in, crashed down around me. I reached for nearest thing-a dish covered in a thick, red sauce and poured it over Anthony's golden head of hair.

'You stupid slut!' shouted Anthony, but as he got to his feet, I lashed out with my fist, hitting him with such force that blood started to pour from his nose.

I fled the room after that amid shouts and the screams of Mrs Scharp, shouting I could pack my things and go.

In the safety of my room, I cried and cried. I had no home, no job, no one to care for me and was no closer to finding my Magdalene. What was I to do and where was I to go, I had no idea but I pack my belongs and waited for the house to be silent before leaving.

I never made it out of the house, though, for as I past Cromwell's office, he appeared at the door.

'That was quite a show, Bathsheba,'

'I'm sorry, sir,' I said, my voice weak with tears.

'Don't be,' he laugh, 'that punch would put many men to shame,'

He looked at the small bundle I held tightly against my chest and shook his head.

'I'll speak with Joanne (Mrs Scharp). There is no reason for you to leave. Anthony Dixon and that Lord Richards deserve every misfortunate that befalls them. Men, whose forefathers made their wealth for them. Men, who have never had to work for fear they will go hungry. Lord, I only employed Anthony cause his father beg me to take his useless son of his hands!'

He sound so passionate as he spoke, but it was laced with a sadness that I knew only too well.

'Lady Dixon, prides herself on her charity,' I said, finding the courage to look at him, 'the priest every Sunday would preach about the goodness of Lady Dixon. But when I got into trouble she pushed me down the stairs and got her maid to empty the chamber pots over me,'

****

'Is Anthony the father?'

'Yes, sir,' I said. We were sat by the small fire in his office, my bundled of belongings know lying on his desk. Part of me felt uneasy sitting here, though the rest of me felt strangely safe and longing to tell of my troubles, 'and he knows it. He promised we'd marry and find my daughter.'

'I bet he did,' murmured Cromwell, staring intently into the fire, his eyes briefly turning cold and hard. But then he turned back to me, he was once again kind, 'what is your daughter's name?'

'Magdalene,' I replied, a wide smile on my face, as I recalled the brief moment I held her in my arms, before one of the sisters took her from me, 'though they told me not to name her'

'And you have no idea where they took her,'

'No,' the smile disappeared, as tears once again welled in my eyes, 'they told me to live as though she was dead. She was the product of my sin and my life was to be a repentance for that. I've sinned sir, but I held to the belief that God would one day forgive me and let me see my daughter. That why I left with Anthony, as I thought God had forgiving me, but he hasn't, has he?'

'Do you prayer, Bathsheba?'

'Every day,'

'Say a prayer with me now,'

Slowly, I slide of the chair and on to my knees, as he did the same. Facing each other, we both put our hands together and closed our eyes.

'Pater noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur Nomen Tuum' I started to say but stop with a jump as I felt Cromwell place his warm hands around my cold trembling hands.

'Say it in English,'

'I don't know how to, sir,' I said opening my eyes looking at the floor, embarrassed by my lack of education. I had ask Cecily once what some of the Latin meant, only for her to reply it was not my place to know-though I suspected she also didn't know either.

'Don't be ashamed. Look at me and we'll say the words together,'

His eyes staring straight into my mind, I let my lips follow his, as for the first time I heard the Lord's words in English.

'Our Father, which art in heaven,

hallowed be thy name;

thy kingdom come;

thy will be done,

in earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our trespasses,

as we forgive them that trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation;

but deliver us from evil.

Amen'

As I said the finally words, I felt all my troubles slip away, as I felt God with me, not demanding penance but wanting to guide me to him. This look of peace and relief must have shown on my face.

'You see Bathsheba, God is all around us where ever we are. He does not need a church or grand gestures, all he needs is to be in your heart,'

He then let go of my hands and replacing his hands on my shoulders, as he lent forward and kiss me on the forehead. I wasn't shocked, so didn't I pull away-it had been a long time since someone had shown me affection.

He helped me to my feet and for a while we stood facing each other. I felt a different person standing there and knew for the first time, in a long while, I had a broad smile on my lips.

'I think you were scared, when you first arrived?'

'My friend Cecily told me you were Lucifer himself,' I said with an embarrassed laugh, remembering my genuine terror.

'I've been called worse,'

I don't know why I did what I did next. Not that I regret it but I cannot tell why I suddenly grabbed hold of his arm and held it against stomach. Perhaps I wanted to show some gratitude or maybe I simply longed for the brief moment of human affection to last a little longer.

'I did what you told me, sir. I brought this fabric with the money you gave me. Do you like, sir?'

Looking up at him from under my eye lids, I saw an emotion in Cromwell face I'd never seen before-fear. I let go of his hand, in dread of rejection, but his hand did not move from my body. Instead he move his hand to my hip and ran it up the side of my body, causing me to close my eyes and sigh as I felt his hand graze my right breast.

'Not since my wife,' I heard him mumble, as he place both hands on my hips and pulled me to him.

'I don't bite, sir,' I said, genuinely concern as I put my arms around his neck and placed my lips on his but it was he that start to kiss me. He held me so firmly, that I felt our bodies being crushed together, as he kissed me in a way that made my whole body flush with heat.

I don't remember how we go to his bed chamber, I only remember what happened next. On those times when I had laid with Anthony, they had been over before they had even began, with me still fully clothed, but tonight everything was different. Cromwell, (I had not yet started to call him Thomas), made love to me, slowly and passionately, as if I was the only woman left on God's earth, his hands and tongue exploring every inch of my naked body; throughout he repeatedly whispered my name.

****

Afterwards, in the darkness of the room I slip from under his arm, convinced he was asleep and started to dress. It was cold outside the blanket and I tried to dress quickly but as I reached for my dress, Cromwell, gently caught hold of my arm.

'You are cold,' he whispered tenderly, 'come back to bed,'

'But someone could...'

'I am up before the sun rises. You will be safely back in your bed by time the rest of the house wakes.'

Though I hesitated, I soon slipped back under the covers and let him wrap them tightly around us. In the warmth of the bed, he place his arm across my waist and held me tightly to him. Just as we were both going surrender to sleep I heard him mumble-

'From the roof he saw her bathing and she was very beautiful,'