A Subtle Flame

Part 4

 CHAPTER THREE

 Cressida blinked rapidly at the sudden brightness as someone at the back of the room turned on the overhead lights.  She fumbled for the switch at the side of the projector, and the image of a stained glass window disappeared from the white screen behind her.

             "So, in conclusion ..."  Cressida picked up her pile of notes again and quickly scanned the page, trying to find her place.  "We can see that, umm, late-medieval women had an important prominence in urban society.  Whether it was as stall-holders in the market, traders in shops, benefactors of the poor and elderly, or simply as images in stained glass windows in churches, urban women formed an essential part of the economic and social life of the city."

             With a grateful and relieved smile at her audience, Cressida sank down into her seat, and took a large gulp from her glass of water.  She could feel her cheeks burning, but at least her hands were not shaking as much as before.  It was only with a slight tremble that she set the glass back down on the table, and looked up at the rows of people before her who were clapping politely and shifting uncomfortably in their seats.

             Compared to the couple of hundred students Davis gave lectures to everyday, this was a much more modest gathering.  About fifteen or so postgraduates and a couple of lecturers had attended this session of the 'Late-Medieval City Research Group', with Cressida as their speaker for the evening.  Less than twenty people, and yet Cressida had still been a bundle of nerves.  Well, at least I had the projector on for most of it, she sighed in relief, so I didn't have to look at all those faces staring back at me all the time.

             "Thank you, Cressida," announced Christian, who was seated beside her.  "A fascinating insight into the lives of medieval women, I'm sure we'll all agree.  And well done for getting through it.  Cressida said to me beforehand," Christian turned to the audience with a smile, "that she was afraid she would have to run out in the middle of her paper and be sick!  Caused by a combination of nerves and the second helping of treacle pie she had at supper."  A couple of brief chuckles from the audience made Christian's grin widen from ear to ear.

             What treacle pie?  Cressida glared at him, but Christian was far more interested in his audience.  "I have a few questions for Cressida but I'm sure many of you do too.  So I'll throw it open to the floor.  Anyone?"

             There was a moment of awkward silence, interrupted only by the squeak of a chair or a muffled cough, but then a hand rose tentatively into the air.  "Yes?" Christian acknowledged the plump woman wearing a long, tasselled scarf.

             "I was wondering, Cressida, if you talk a bit more about how late-medieval women were involved in church life.  How far could they take an active part, like the men?"

             An easy question, thank goodness, Cressida thought with a grateful smile at the lady.  As she talked about her subject, her tense shoulders and back began to relax, and she found that the words flowed easily.  She drew her explanation to a close and then looked expectantly at the crowd for another raised hand.  But it was Christian this time who addressed her.

             "But Margery Kempe subverted the traditionally silent role of women in the church, didn't she?" 

             "Yes," Cressida agreed cautiously.  Don't you dare, she warned him with a stern look.  Don't you dare ask me about Margery Kempe's diary.  You know that I have deliberately not discussed the literary sources such as diaries and letters in my paper because I haven't had time to research that angle yet.