On June 30th as planned, May and Muriel set off on their bikes for Perdiswell Church. By going up to the top of their road and then turning left, they managed to go along a rough footpath which crossed the canal and then joined the top end of Sansome Walk which connected with Tything Road, which is an extension of Foregate Street. Then they went almost due North through Barbourne, arriving in Perdiswell not long after. They had left plenty of time for the journey which took them under an hour, and they were pleased that they had time for a rest and clean up before the service started at 11.

After the service, they waited for John Day to finish with his jobs in the church, and saw his brother, looking very shy and awkward, waiting as well.  Two bikes were near where he stood, and Muriel was all for going up to start a conversation with him, but May held her back.
“Don’t scare him off. He looks as if he is not looking forward to this day, as it is. Time enough to get to know him when John comes.”

Not five minutes later, John emerged, and indicating that he needed to take the keys to the vicarage, he went to do so.  By this time, the girls and Harold were the only people left in the churchyard, so the girls went up to him.

“Hello,” said May. “We met you when we were last at church here in April, but let me introduce us again. I am May Stinton and this is my friend, Muriel King. We know you are Harold, but that is all we know about you.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Harold said softly, looking as if nothing could be farther from the truth.

“I heard that Tottenham Hotspur beat Sheffield 3-1 in the FA Cup and that was the first time that a non league side won it,” said May, bravely. She had memorized that fact, and thought it might come in useful. She didn’t know anything about football, but thought it was the sort of thing boys would certainly be happy to talk about. Luckily the conversation was halted by the reappearance of John.

“Very nice to see you girls again.  I have brought a picnic lunch, as promised. I suggest, unless you are already too tired from your long ride here, that we go to Ladywood for our picnic. It is about another mile up this road and there is a lovely spot near a brook where it is quite flat so we can spread out the blanket and eat in some comfort.”

The girls said they were happy to ride farther along, so they did as suggested, and went another mile.

En route they passed Bevere and John stopped and got off his bike.  “I thought I should tell you a bit about this place,” he said.

“Many of the inhabitants of Worcester came her for asylum in 1541 when they refused to pay the tax, Danegelt, and were thus exposed to the fury of Harkacutt.  It was also used in 1637 when some Worcester residents came to escape a pestilence.”

The girls nodded and smiled, interested in these bits of history.

The picnic spot when they arrived, was idyllic, as promised, and the warm sun made it even better.  The large meal was laid out on the blanket.  There were sandwiches of cheese and ham, lettuce, cucumber and tomatoes, apples and pears and lemonade to drink.  John had not only provided the food and blanket, but had brought plates, glasses, and silverware and serviettes to make it anything but simple.

“So tell us what you girls have been up to in the last few months. Muriel, did you find out any more about your ancestors of royal lineage?”
So Muriel sent into great detail about the correspondence she had had with  Eleanor  Poulett, and how in the end, although she had learned many things, she was still no further with finding the relative who had the ring that she would have dearly loved to see.

Harold had been quiet throughout, and although May smiled frequently and encouragingly in his direction, he didn’t seem inclined to smile back. Finally, May felt she had to bring him into the conversation.
“Are you intending to attend Oxford as well, Harold?”

“No, I am going to be a mining engineer, and the place to train for that is in a mining college so I am off to Camborne School of Mining in Cornwall in September.”

His brother added, “Harold is very clever. But he is single minded in this. In fact he won prizes for being top of the class is both physics and mathematics and as the prizes were to choose books,  he chose some about mineralogy which seems a real waste to me.”

“I have all my life wanted to be a miner – and go to the far reaches of the world to extract tin and copper and gold.  But first I must get qualified. My younger brother Mark is also interested and intends to follow my path as well.”

“And what will you do, John, when you come down from Oxford?” asked Muriel.

“I am intending to teach.  Although I am studying theology and hope to be ordained, I have always wanted to teach.  So I will have many more years of study in front of me. What about you girls? What long term plans do you have?”

“Girls like us have to stay at home until someone decides they want to marry us,” said Muriel boldly.  “Although both our parents allow us great freedom, we don’t have any real plans in terms of career.  I hope to go to Victoria Institute on Foregate Street next year to learn more about art subjects. They have classes in painting, design and modeling.  I am particularly interested in learning how to carve wood.”

Muriel looked at her friend quickly as this was the first she had heard of her plans.

“And what about you, May?” asked John.

“I pretty much do whatever Muriel does,” said May.

Wanting to take over the initiative on the conversation she added, “Muriel didn’t tell you our great news. We had great encouragement when we visited the Trees last week.  Mr. Tree, (who is on the museum committee by the way) is a very important solicitor you know, had heard Muriel recite her great grandmother’s poem at the Queen’s Memorial Service. He suggested that if there are other poems of similar vein, Muriel should send them to him, and he will attempt to get his uncle James Arrowsmith who is a publisher in Bristol to give an opinion as to their worthiness of being published in a book.”

“That is a very exciting project for you. And were there more poems, Muriel?”

“Oh yes, there are perhaps 50 poems in the album.  I don’t think my great grandmother wrote them all, as many have different initials after them, and some have names. But my mother has no idea who the people are from the names. I am sure that at least 10 of the poems were written by my great grandmother, Martha Trew. One that I certainly will send to Mr. Tree to give to Mr. Arrowsmith is about Guildford Castle – and she has done a sketch of the castle with it.  There are also a few other pencil sketches in the book, and a working of the word Bible by using all the various chapters in the Bible that she thought were important.”

“I would very much like to see this myself.  Perhaps one day when I am in Worcester, I could call on you at your parents’ home.”

“Oh yes, indeed.”

Not to be outdone, May added, “And another possible place for us to meet is being proposed.  The Trees have a wonderful garden, and we all thought that later in the summer, we might have all of your family, and our families to meet together for a picnic one Sunday. I am sure Mrs. Tree will be writing to your mother.”

“That sounds like jolly good fun. And perhaps Muriel could bring the album to the picnic, and I could see some of the poems and pictures then.”

“Oh yes, I could do that. I don’t know when exactly they will plan it, but when would suit you?” asked Muriel.

“Any Sunday, after Church of course, in mid to late summer would be fine,” said John.

“Let’s make it for mid August if we can.  I will contact the Trees and tell them to choose a weekend of their choice in August.”

After the meal, the foursome walked along the brook for a distance, but then as it looked as if it might come on to rain, decided it would be best if they started back. When they had got about half way, the rain started.  So as their new house on Barbourne Road was en route, the boys invited to girls to tea at their house before embarking on the rest of the ride home.

At tea, Muriel and May were introduced to Mr. Day, whom they had not previously met. He was a tall thin man with a white beard, which made him look much older than his likely years.  He was gracious and polite, but showed no interest in quizzing the girls or taking much part in the conversation at tea. However, Caroline his wife was bubbling over with questions and very enthusiastic when John told her about the proposed picnic with the Trees, Stintons, Kings and Days all coming together.

May noticed and commented on the trophies on the mantelpiece. “Our Harold is quite a runner,” said Mrs. Day.  “He wins most of the races he goes in for. In fact in the spring events for King’s Cathedral School, he came first in 9 out of the 10 events and was given the title of Victor Judorium. His four also do well in the rowing competitions.”

Harold looked uncomfortable at this praise, and quickly changed the subject. But both girls were very impressed by this new knowledge.  It also was noted that John didn’t seem to share this athletic prowess.
It was nearly five when the girls got back on their bikes and did the rest of the journey. They felt the day was very successful, and although Harold did not seem much like husband material at the moment, he had made quite an impression on both girls. What fun it would be if they thought, if they could have a joint wedding, but neither was prepared to commit themselves at the moment to be the one who would marry Harold.