Thanks for all the lovely response and reviews to the first chapter, it's always nice to know that people are reading and enjoying it. Any further feedback to this chapter will be equally appreciated. This was initially going to be a one-shot that then turned into a two-shot. It now looks like they'll be at least another couple of chapters so hopefully you'll enjoy and feel it's not too drawn-out.

Harry waited patiently at the entrance to the ground as crowds of people thronged past him, all in a good mood, each wanting to be at their seat before the first ball of the day was bowled . He had offered to pick Ruth up on his way in but she had declined, preferring instead to make her own way there. He glanced at his watch again for the third time that morning, they had arranged to meet at 10.15am giving them plenty of time to get in, get themselves sorted and find their seats. It was now 9.45am; Harry cursed himself once more for turning up quite so early, he just hadn't wanted Ruth to get there first and being unable to find him, turning round and going back home again.

He hadn't felt this nervous waiting for someone since he had been 14 years old and waiting outside the Flicks for Sarah Greene, who had agreed to go and see the latest Bond film, You Only Live Twice with him; if only the life of a spy was half as glamorous as Sean Connery had made it out to be, he mused to himself. She'd eventually shown up, eaten all his sweets and then dumped him a week later for a boy in the year above him at school... At least that wasn't going to happen this time, as Ruth had made it perfectly clear, in their one brief conversation about today, that whatever it was, it wasn't a date. It had been nearly a week after Malcolm had told him that Ruth, rather than Malcolm himself would be joining him at The Oval, yet Ruth hadn't so much as said a word to him about it until Friday evening when she'd burst into his office unannounced just before 7.00pm and asked him where they should meet on Sunday. If he hadn't known better, judging by the expression on her face and the slight tremor in her voice, he'd have thought that she'd been working her way up to speaking to him about it all day, though he was no better himself, having had absolutely no idea how to broach the conversation with her without risking others overhearing or 'spooking her'. In fact he'd been halfway through an email to her, which had been sitting in his drafts for two days when she'd rendered the email mute.

He was brought out of his thoughts by a clear shout of recognition, "Harry!" Unfortunately it wasn't the person he was waiting for and the initial shout was followed up by another, not quite as deep, "Uncle Harry." He groaned inwardly while simultaneously looking up and smiling briefly at the man and boy approaching him, mirrors of each other dressed in shorts, tee-shirts and trainers, hoping against all hope that Ruth didn't show up now and spot Adam and Wes with him. What were the chances of bumping into each other with the thousands of people here today.

"Fancy seeing you here!" Adam spoke with a cheeky grin on his face, "waiting for someone?"

He was saved from answering by Wes piping up, "are you coming to watch the cricket with us Uncle Harry? It's my first time."

He smiled down at the earnest face below him, "not this time Wes, I'm going with another friend, we'll have to go to another game sometime."

Wes nodded eagerly, while Adam continued to smile at Harry, "whereabouts are your seats Harry? Maybe we'll be sat close together."

Fortunately Malcolm, on behalf of Harry had already checked this out, the thought of Ruth bumping into a likely tipsy Zaf and Adam and a very curious, no holds barred on the questions Wes, likely egged on by Zaf, had not been at the top of his wish list for today. Thankfully they were at opposite ends of the ground. He answered confidently and noncommittally, giving as little away as possible, "we're at the Vauxhall End."

Adam's face fell slightly, "shame, we're more at The Pavilion end I think, in the Lock Stand."

"That is a shame." Harry said with a straight face, his tone giving away though that he though it was anything but a shame. He ruffled Wes's hair as he spoke pointedly to Adam, "mustn't keep you anyway, you'll be wanting to get to your entry gate and with these crowds it's likely to take a while to get there." Quite how Adam seemed to suddenly know that Harry wasn't waiting for a male friend, he had no idea, he certainly hadn't mentioned it to anyone and after last time, he couldn't imagine either Malcolm or Ruth saying anything either; or maybe he was just becoming overzealous in his old age and imagining things that weren't there.

Adam grinned again, "well enjoy your day," he looked up at the sky, which for once in England was cloudless, "it looks like it's going to be a real scorcher."

Harry nodded, he was already feeing the heat and wishing he was 20 years younger, so that he too could get away with wearing shorts on a day out, if he'd been going with Malcolm he might has risked it, but he didn't think Ruth would have appreciated seeing his legs on display. "You too," he answered, "I'll see you tomorrow at work, when hopefully the Ashes will be back where they belong in the MCC museum."

Adam grinned cheerfully as they walked away, while Wes turned around and waved at him, he sighed as he heard Wes's question to his father float over to him, "who's Uncle Harry waiting for Dad?" Fortunately the answer was washed away in the babble of people walking past and he attempted to put all thoughts of Adam and anyone else out of his mind.

He checked his watch again before scanning the horizon, it was still another 15 minutes until Ruth was due when he spotted her carrying a large outsize bag and making her way slowly towards him.

"Ruth, what on earth have you brought with you?" He said rushing towards her in lieu of a greeting.

"Good morning to you too," she answered cheerfully, putting the bag down at her feet. "I checked their website yesterday and they said to bring extra clothes in case the weather changes," they both looked up at the sky which was still cloudless, " and I've brought some lunch for us both." She looked over at Harry where he stood in a pair of dark casual trousers and a light blue open necked shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his arms, "haven't you even brought a jumper in case it cools down later?."

He shrugged in response, before bending over to pick up her bag for her, "I'll taken my chance on the weather." He indicated towards the large bag now in his hand, "you didn't need to bring us lunch, I normally just buy food in the ground."

"Fried food of every description." Ruth wrinkled her nose in distaste, "no thank you."

He smiled at her expression, "well thank you for thinking of me too, I'm sure whatever you've brought along will be much nicer. In that case, the drinks today will be on me," he insisted. He'd always planned on treating her, but with her supplying their lunch it made it easier to implement this plan. Ushering her towards the gates and the queue to get the bag checked, he glanced down at her, she was wearing a blue sundress that came down to just below her knees, a thin cardigan over the top of it and a pair of sandals, "you look lovely," he blurted out before he could stop himself and then winced, this isn't a date, he repeated to himself inside his head.

Ruth however didn't seem to mind too much, she coloured slightly as they joined the back of the queue and a shy smile slipped onto her face, "thank you."

Harry grinned inwardly as he took the two tickets out of his pocket ready for them to be scanned at the entrance, maybe where Ruth was concerned his luck was finally changing.

"Uncle Zaf!" Wes charged towards the dark haired, good looking man who was leaning against a lamppost clearly waiting for them.

"Wes!" He held up his hand for a high-five, "good to see you! You looking forward to seeing some cricket?"

Wes nodded enthusiastically before reeling off a number of players that he was hoping to see today. Adam had bought him a miniature bat from one of the many official souvenir stands around the ground and he was hoping to be able to get a couple of autographs from the players if he was lucky.

"Shall we get the drinks in first or wait 'til we've found our seats?" Zaf asked Adam over the top of Wes' excited chatter once they'd made their way through into the ground.

"Beer first, I'm parched," Adam replied, "we went in the wrong direction when we arrived, so we've already circumnavigated most of the stadium"

Zaf chuckled as they headed over to one of the many drinks stands.

"We saw Uncle Harry," Wes piped up as they waited to be served, "he's not sitting with us though, he's with another friend today."

"Is he so?" Zaf's eyebrows lifted as he looked at the young boy, while Adam audibly groaned "which friend was he waiting for?"

"I don't know," Wes answered earnestly, "Dad thinks it's a special friend though."

A special friend?" Zaf smiled and suddenly looked like the cat who had got the cream.

Adam grimaced, as much as he'd enjoyed gently teasing Harry earlier, he certainly didn't want this going any further. It had only been pure chance that as he'd wandered past the back of Ruth's chair and glanced at her computer when she'd been distracted on the phone the other night, that he'd seen the tab open on her computer on the Guardian's cricket pages. It could be sheer coincidence of course, but Adam didn't believe in coincidences, not when he knew that Ruth generally didn't follow the cricket, and if Ruth was doing anything she didn't know much about, then she'd research it until she did. "I didn't say that exactly Wes," he bit out, "ignore him," he directed to Zaf.

"But you said it was a special friend, " Wes insisted, "that's what you said."

Adam pinched the bridge of his nose as they reached the front of the queue and were finally served, ordering beers for himself and Zaf and a soft-drink for Wes, "aren't all friends special," he asked Wes softly, while wondering how two dyed in the wool spies, such as he and Fiona, could have produced such an open and honest boy... it certainly didn't seem that Wes would be following them into the business and for that Adam could only feel thankful.

Wes fortunately seemed to be placated by Adam's answer as they made their way over to their seats, and anything he might have added was forgotten as he saw the pitch for the first time, "wow!" was all he heard from his son and he smiled at the joy in his voice.

Zaf, unfortunately, wasn't quite as keen to let it go. "So Harry's here with a female friend is he? I don't suppose that it's a female friend, quite short, dark haired, works alongside us?" He asked cheekily; he had a book open on Harry and Ruth, unbeknownst to either of them, and their relationship, or lack of it, had garnered a number of bets from Officers across Section D.

"I don't know who he's with Zaf, " Adam sighed, "just let it go. He's probably here with his old army mates, I only said special friend to stop Wes getting upset that he wasn't sitting with us."

Zaf looked at him with an expression that clearly said, 'do you think I was born yesterday', but dropped the questioning for the time being as they found their seats, had their first sips of beer and waited for the stirring sound of Jerusalem to resonate across the ground.

"Sorry, sorry." Harry made his way back to the seats, beers in hand, trying carefully and failing, not to stand on anyone's feet as he made his way through the narrow aisle and people stood up to let him through.

Ruth smiled in appreciation as he handed her a plastic glass of beer and she took a large gulp. He'd initially offered to buy her a wine, soft-drink or a cup of tea, but when she'd realised that he intended getting himself a beer she'd decided to join him.

"I never took you for a beer drinker," he stated as he watched her take her first mouthful as he settled down in the seat next too her.

"I'm not usually, but I do enjoy it on a hot day," she grinned, "I haven't really drunk it much since I left Oxford, but it was my drink of choice then on the occasions I went out." She nudged him, or at least he thought she did, they were sat so close together it was hard to know whether it was a nudge or if she'd just moved her arm, "you can hardly talk anyway, I don't think I've seen you drink beer before either."

"They didn't sell single malt at the bar," Harry joked. "I'm the same as you, I enjoy it on a hot day." He mopped his brow, "and today is certainly a hot day." It had just passed 11.00am, it was 25 degrees, the game had started and with Australia needing 350 runs to win and England 10 wickets, the Test was finely poised and was anyone's to win and anyone's to lose.

The stand they were sitting in was in the full glare of the sun and Ruth reached inside her bag to take out her suntan lotion while keeping one eye on the field; so far not much seemed to have happened, but she had enjoyed the gentle applause from the crowd as runs were scored and the louder ooh's and aah's when England bowled a good ball. Harry suddenly felt very thankful that Ruth had packed for all occasions, otherwise it was likely that he'd have burnt to a crisp, though he did have a floppy white hat tucked away in his trouser pocket should it get too bad. "Would you mind if I borrowed some of that Ruth?" he asked quietly.

"Of course," she said, taking some herself before passing the bottle over, "help yourself."

"Thanks," he started spreading it liberally over his face and arms, "I didn't even think about this before," he said slightly sheepishly.

"Harry," she exclaimed, slightly louder than she'd intended, "what was it Noel Coward said about mad dogs and Englishmen?"

"Don't worry love, my husband's just the same as yours!" Both Harry and Ruth looked up startled as the woman sat immediately in front of them turned round in her chair.

"I'm not..."

"He's not..."

Both of their comments were drowned out as the lady continued, indicating towards the man sat to her left who seemed to shrink slightly into his chair as she pointed towards him and three pairs of eyes came to rest on the lobster red skin on his arms and the back of his neck. "I told him yesterday when were in the garden that he needed to put some on, but would he listen to me, no he wouldn't and now he's a colour only a tomato would be jealous of. Still," she continued, talking to Ruth, "at least your other half has the sense to admit to it now, rather than expecting you to rub after-sun all over him when you get home." With that, she turned back round in her seat and her husbands neck appeared to have turned an even deeper shade of red if that was at all possible.

Harry and Ruth looked at each other, both with slightly nonplussed expressions on their faces and both with a touch of red that had nothing to do with the sun. Despite being surrounded by thousands of people it had felt like their own little space and although things had been a little awkward between them, they'd spent the first hour stumbling along well together. That had all changed with the unasked for interruption and presumption, but before either of them could say anything, the stadium erupted as England claimed the first wicket of the morning session.

TBC

NB. For those that don't follow cricket (which I presume is a large percentage of readers) Jerusalem is an unofficial national anthem for England and played (and sung) before each days play as the players make their way onto the pitch during an England Test match.