After ten minutes of silence, during which I was trying hard to keep from giving in to the urge to burst into tears, Maggie suddenly sat up and looked around, asking, "Where on earth has Daphne got to?"

I wanted to tell her I didn't care. Years of hope had been smashed to splinters - wicked, jagged, derisive, blood-encrusted splinters - in the space of a few seconds. Not only was Daphne uninterested in me as a lover, she was barely interested in me as a friend. I'd been a chump. I'd graduated that very day from the University of Chumpsville, with honours in the field of chumposity. From that moment forth, I should be formally addressed as Niles Crane, M.D., C.H.U.M.P.

So why should I care where Daphne might be?

Oh, but of course I cared. Once I'd got the bitterness out of the way, my thoughts became focused on Daphne's absence and concern began to flicker in my stomach. I told Maggie I'd check the ice cream stand while she stayed put, and I began to pick my way through the thickening crowd.

I walked there and back again, and saw no sign of Manchester's cruel Venus, despite the built-in Daphne-radar I seem to have developed over the last years. Maggie remained alone on the blanket when I returned, though she'd put her T-shirt back on and was sitting up, scanning the crowd fretfully. I shook my head at her when she spotted me and she pinched her lips together until they went white.

"Maybe she went back to the stalls?" I suggested, when I got back to the blanket.

"Without telling us?" Maggie frowned disbelievingly.

She had a point. "Well ... perhaps she saw you kiss me," I tried again, too concerned now, to worry about retreading that awkwardness. "Maybe she saw that, thought we wanted some privacy, and took herself off for a while?"

"It's possible," Maggie agreed. "It's my turn. I'll go and look if you stay here, okay?"

I agreed. I told her to be careful. Maggie trotted off and I sank down on to the blanket again. I spent the next half hour desperately watching the crowds for some sign of Daphne. I wondered whether bad things could happen in such an openly tolerant arena, whether muggers and rapists might take advantage of the trust of the festival crowd, and I had to come to the conclusion that sometimes they might.

The time alone gave me the opportunity to invent a morbid scenario, involving Daphne being approached by a man asking for help with a sick friend (I knew my angel wouldn't be able to refuse such a request) and following him to a secluded spot where atrocities would be visited upon her person. I quite convinced myself that, even as I sat, helplessly, on a picnic blanket on a sunny embankment, Daphne was suffering pain and indignity and violation at the hands of some monster. Or monsters.

Oh god, I got myself worked up into a real state.

When Maggie returned alone, she went white with alarm as she noted my continued lone presence. She sat down beside me and told me hurriedly that she'd been around all the stalls, the toilets and she'd even been back up to the Winnebago. No sign. My companion was clearly verging on hysterics, and that gave me the impetus to quell my own concern and school myself to remain calm. Maggie needed me to be strong. Fortunately, I've always had the ability to rise above panic. As inspiration struck, I fished out my cellphone.

"Maybe she met Michael unexpectedly," I offered, and dialled his number.

"'lo?" came the sluggish response.

"Michael, this is Niles."

"Oh, all right, mate?"

"Not really. Is Daphne with you?"

Michael's voice sharpened. "No mate, haven't seen her since last night. What's happened?"

I told him that she'd gone for ice cream and had now been missing for nearly forty-five minutes. I told him we'd been looking all over for her, and had seen no sign.

"Okay, Niles. Where are you at the moment?" Michael asked.

"On the left hand embankment as you look at the Jazz Stage."

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

He cut the call. I hoped fleetingly that I hadn't ruined the band preparations for their set at four o'clock, before tossing the thought aside. I didn't care a fig about the band's set. I just wanted Daphne safe and sound. Maggie and I scanned the horizons again, before the familar face of Daphne's brother came jogging over to join us.

"I've got the boys out looking," he announced, throwing himself down on to the blanket to join us. "Still no sign?" I shook my head. The anxiety I hid must have been leaking through my stoical demeanour, as Michael reached out to pat my shoulder reassuringly. "Listen, Niles, mate - I don't want to tempt fate, but Daphne knows how to look after herself. She once fractured a bloke's cheekbone when he got too fresh, back in Manchester. Footballer. Played for the Vale. He ended up missing half the season, and told everyone it was a training injury, but it was our Daph, and that tosser deserved everything he got from her. Remember that." I smiled tightly and nodded. "I mean," he added with half a grin, "would you want to go three rounds with her?"

That brought back memories of play-fights galore, Daphne smiling and laughing and using a hand to swat me on the chest. The revelation Maggie had made about Daphne's lack of interest was so much less important than Daphne's well-being. I choked back the stinging tears and stood up, the better to view the crowds.

The noise of a telephone ringer dragged me back down to earth, as well as to the blanket. It was Michael's. He flipped it open and barked a demanding, "Yeah?!" into it. Maggie and I studied him as his tense face broke into a smile. "Oh, thanks a million, Pete, mate. You know where we are? ... Good, see you then."

"Pete's found her?" I asked breathlessly.

"Certainly has." Michael and I shared a relieved smile, and Maggie threw herself on to my back. I patted her arms without a trace of discomfort. "Pete saw her leaving the dance tent, of all places!" He shook his head. "I've never known Daphne interested in that stuff!"

It didn't matter. It didn't matter where she'd been and it didn't matter that my love for her was completely unrequited, and it didn't even matter that she'd used me shamelessly, simply to get a ride to meet her brother, because Daphne was all right. We stood up and looked expectantly across the festival site in the direction of the dance tent. When I was certain my two companions weren't watching, I reached with my hand and wiped away the tears.