Mention Catherine in any conversation and you were guaranteed a reaction that had taken him years to achieve, both as a husband and as father. The ability to manage whatever situation she found herself in and to treat it for what it was. In this case to ensure that the boys had some fun, without telling them that they needed to wash their hands or to be careful and was why until there was a knock on the door, Harry hadn't told them that she was coming.

He'd barely had the chance to say 'hello love' before she was being dragged across the room, to be regaled with tales of their week so far. Good and bad she was going to hear the lot, only stopping for a second, when he suggested that they should let Catherine sit down first and catch her breath.

'Dad and I went on the London Eye,' Thomas told her,' getting the first word in. An experience which they'd enjoyed, despite the run up being anything but. One hundred and thirty metres high and with a rotation time of thirty minutes, they'd loved every minute of it, although not as much as they would have done if Ruth and Finn had been with them. Ruth wisely backing out before they'd reached the front of the queue and taking Finn with her. Justified because a much older and to be honest, horrible child who should have known better, had voiced his opinions on the various options if it broke down. Or more specifically if the pod that you were sitting in, happened to be at the top.

'They'll make you open the door and jump out,' he'd told a captive audience, complete with actions and a death rattle. Realistic enough to have made Ruth think that this child had watched far too many horror films and to wonder why was his father thought that this was acceptable behaviour? That their own personal parenting skills were better than she'd imagined. A thought that had been challenged, as she'd watched Harry balling up his fists in a way that spelt trouble. Made more likely because Finn had started to cry. Something that hadn't happened since he'd fallen over and scraped his knees weeks ago. Which had prompted her to tell Harry they they'd go and sit by the river and not to worry about them. A nice walk with an ice cream and a cuddle with Buster and all tears would be gone. Even better when Harry and Thomas had arrived back and announced that the child in question had been refused entry and that if they wanted to go again as a family, that they wouldn't have to pay.

Thomas's version much shorter and far less graphic, which was just as well as Catherine had announced it was Finn's turn.

There's no need for you to dress up Catherine had told them, which didn't really match up to large houses with even larger gardens, or meeting your daughter's partner and or parents for the first time. Which was why Harry who was making the coffee while Ruth was still getting ready, was not only listening, but keeping an eye on what they were up to. Both the boys wearing clean new shirts bought for the occasion. Realising as he watched Finn climb up onto Catherine's lap, intent on telling her his own interpretation of events, that whatever he might say would be a waste of time.

'It was a real castle with a real dungeon,' said his animated youngest, doing an impression of the ravens being fed. With actions that involved breaking up a biscuit and then rubbing his fingers into the crumbs, before eating them. Following it up with a very lifelike impression of Tower Bridge opening and closing, which apparently necessitated him lying on the floor and waving his arms and legs about. At which point Harry conceded defeat. Added to which Catherine had a very small car, which on a warm day, meant that the chances of them looking pristine when they arrived were virtually nil.

.

Proven, but on first glance didn't seem to matter, as a smartly dressed woman, Afghan Hound in tow, what else, smiled at him as he helped his family out of the car. To be confronted by a row of houses in an area where the residents probably only listened to Radio 4 or watched BBC 2. In contrast to the London where he and Ruth had lived and why Harry's first thought, was that the rate of crime must be very low and that if Catherine was going to live here, then it could only be a good thing. That and how relaxed and beautiful Ruth looked, despite having been squashed in the back of the car with the boys. Caught gazing at her by Catherine who as usual was marshalling her devoted troops, in the direction of what they later found out was nicknamed The Cut. A narrow footpath that took them down to the towpath and a to a surprise.

'I'm very pleased to meet you all,' said Chris, or Christian as he introduced himself. 'I'm guessing this wasn't what you were expecting?' An understatement on both counts. For one thing he was very tall, dark haired and extremely handsome. As he went on to explain to them that he was half English and half Italian on his mother's side. That when his father had retired, that his parents had made the decision move back to Tuscany.

'We retained the mooring when we sold the house,' he told them, without the pretention that the words implied, turning in the direction of what could only be described as a floating work of art. A houseboat that looked as though it was brand new, but clearly wasn't. Paintwork gleaming in the morning sunshine. Christian then adding to his credentials, by holding out his hand to help Ruth climb on board, as Catherine re-emerged carrying two life jackets for the boys and more importantly a smile. Catherine was right thought Ruth, Christian was nothing at all like Callum. He was a perfect gentleman.

Below deck was no different and despite being a very warm day, the atmosphere was comfortable. Having left Harry with Christian, she and the boys had followed Catherine, into a space that was so well organised as to be called spacious.

'It was a wreck when Chris's parents inherited it and it took them years to get it back to its original condition,' Catherine told her, pointing to a framed photograph on the wall with a date that Ruth couldn't decipher but was obviously there. Slicing a baguette as though she did it every day of the week, whilst at the same time, putting together what looked like a sumptuous plate of cold meats and cheeses. Ruth hoping that her stomach wasn't going to rumble as the boys sat quietly, seeming to realise without being told, that despite being fascinated by everything around them that they shouldn't touch anything. Well not yet anyway.

'It's lovely,' Ruth told her. Thinking as she said it, that lovely was far from adequate. As Catherine continued to potter about looking completely at home, only stopping for a moment, when someone cycled along the towpath and waved.

'Apparently, years ago there were dozens of boats here, but now there are just three,' Catherine continued, before turning to the boys and saying, 'we'll go for a walk later and you can feed the ducks if you want to?'

On deck, Harry was also listening. With a beer in his hand and an expression that said, well I hadn't expected that. Christian having plunged straight in and told him that he loved his daughter and she him. Then asking him if he had his permission to ask Catherine to marry him? Making a very good case when he continued that he knew it was an outmoded thing to have asked, but that it was important to him to know that he could do so with Harry's blessing. He was Italian after all. Flooring him even further, by telling him that he knew that Catherine modelled herself on him and that she was just what he needed. As Harry tried to work out if this was a compliment or not, just as the subject of what he needed, appeared carrying a tray of food. At which point Christian jumped to his feet and moved a chair out of Ruth's way, before she turned on her heels, having said, 'we'll all be here in a moment.'

'She's very beautiful, your wife,' Christian told him, 'you're a lucky man.' Something that Harry couldn't argue about on either count. Although it did make him wonder, just how much Catherine had told him about his relationship with Ruth and whether he was trying to butter him up. Even so, that there was absolutely no reason on earth why he should object to him marrying his daughter. Because despite all the flannel, if flannel it was, that he actually liked him. Shaking his hand, just in advance of the boys arriving and with them the lunch.

A very good one too, during which they learnt a lot more about the Italian village where Christian had been born, as an adoring Catherine encouraged him to open up.

'My father met my mother when she was in her early twenties. He'd flown to Italy for a works conference and that was that really. I was born three years later, but we didn't move to London until I was seven. As much as anything it was so that I could understand the different cultures and to help me improve my English. I don't deny that had a privileged upbringing and I'll always be indebted to them for that. But I will never forget my roots and those early years in Italy. They were magical. Italians are real home lovers, so when Dad retired and it became an option to take Mum home it made sense. We both knew that she'd always missed the slower pace of life and by then they'd both grown tired of living in a huge city. That and the guaranteed warmer weather. I'm staying put though,' he assured them, reaching out for Catherine's hand and much to Harry's relief.

But it wasn't until later, but which time he and Catherine had suggested that they take Thomas to the exhibition, giving Harry and Ruth the chance to have a quieter day. Perhaps take Finn into one of the parks to play on the swings, something that Harry thought was a very good idea, that Christian got the chance to speak to Harry on his own again.

'If it could be arranged, I'd like Catherine and I to get married in the same church as you and Ruth. It would mean a lot to her I know. Especially as your entire family live on the island. Apart from Catherine's mother, who by the way I haven't spoken to yet. I'm assuming that there are hotels where we could all stay? Which would of course have to accommodate my parents. I thought that maybe if they flew over London, that we could drive all up together. All implying Jane as well, Harry presumed. This isn't a snap decision I assure you, although Christmas was the clincher when I went to Italy and Catherine came to stay with you. It felt like the longest week of my life. I'm not expecting an answer now, but do think about it. If you decide that it will prove a problem, then please say so and we'll think again.'

Any dates in mind? Harry wanted to ask him but didn't. Catherine hadn't said yes yet. But she was going to. Of that he had no doubt.

.

The exhibition that Thomas wanted to see, had been the sole reason that they'd agreed to come to London. Now though once Catherine and Christian had picked him up, with no indication yet that Christian had got down on one knee, but with the promise that they'd take Thomas out to dinner afterwards and Ruth and Harry were planning a quiet day with Finn, did either of them make a comment as to how they'd been feeling. That coming back here hadn't been a mistake, it had been anything but. That even the visit to Thames House they'd treat as a positive and unlike their honeymoon which had felt like a dream, that this was real. More than that, it had answered so many of the questions that they'd buried in in an attempt to move on. Which was crazy really, because it was a shared past here in London that had made them who they were now. Happy in every sense.

Which today included Finn, who didn't really care where they were going as long as they took him with them. Which was why they'd decided to spend the day in Hyde Park, with a picnic supplied by the hotel. Braving the underground and several escalators to cut down on the travelling time, they arrived at a time when the park was still reasonably quiet. Much larger than the parks that they had once frequented, it had vast grassed areas, a Victorian bandstand, a large boating lake and a supervised play area for small children. Ignoring all of these for the moment, they found a reasonably quiet spot, spread the blanket on the ground and sat down, prepared to let Finn fun free if he wanted to. A child who up until then had almost entirely relied on Thomas when it came to deciding what he did or didn't do, who was now faced with making up his own mind. Something that didn't take him very long and caused Harry to put a cautionary hand on Ruth's arm and with an expression that told her that they needed to stay silent. Far enough away, but still close enough for them to react if anything went wrong, they watched him take a step forward, followed by another and another, until he was running. Heading towards a small group of children who were about the same age as he was, who were kicking a ball around. Their baby was learning how to fly.

'Is it my imagination, or has he got taller since yesterday?' Harry asked her, in a voice that Ruth knew was an attempt to say something sensible and put a stop to the emotion that was welling up inside him. Both of them watching what was a turning point, when without so much as a backward glance at them, Finn chased after the ball.

'Can we go on a bus later?' he asked them. Having arrived back when the game was brought to an end, when the owner of the ball was called back by his parents. Completely unaware of the effect that his actions had had on his parents.

.

Although it wasn't until much later, having done a tour of London on one of the open top buses and been treated to a burger for his achievements, that Finn who was now in bed, had put the icing on a not inconsiderable cake. Harry and Ruth equally tired, would have been in bed as well, if it hadn't been that Thomas was still out, presumably having a five-star dinner. Whereas they'd settled for the easy option and were enjoying the delights of the late-night buffet and a bottle of wine, that had been delivered to their room. That and the chance to spend a few peaceful hours on their own, before it all started again. It being tomorrow and the arranged visit to Thames House. Which despite the positivity that they'd managed so far, had been overtaken by what Finn had asked Ruth when she'd been giving him his bath and Harry had been taking a shower. Something that had taken them both so much by surprise, that in Harry's case had caused him to turn the taps off and come out to check if he'd heard right.

When presumably referring to his adoption, 'when will you be my always Mummy and Daddy like you are with Thomas?' Finn had asked her.