By the time Indigo Haze came on stage at four o'clock, the tension between the three of us on the embankment was beyond strained. Niles was quiet and unhappy, and trying desperately hard not to be. Maggie was aware that there was something going on, but she didn't know what. And I was still wrestling with what to do about all that I had discovered.

We tried to converse, every so often, commenting on particularly spectacular hairstyles or particularly revealing fashion statements. In retrospect, I'd say we were having the same conversations that my parents had shared in the seventies, when I tried to tune out their scornful voices and watch 'Top of the Pops'.

Such is the circle of life, I suppose.

Our conversations were punctuated by drawn-out silences. It got to the point where, each time one of us spoke, the other two jumped, quite visibly. Can you believe that? Three adults, with years on the majority of the people in the crowd, and we were behaving like schoolchildren.

I couldn't blame Maggie when, at the first sight of Indigo Haze taking to the stage, she decided to rush down the embankment to join the gathered crowd. Niles and I stood up on the blanket, the better to view Michael's performance. We didn't speak, beyond the occasional forced pleasantry. 'Can you see okay?' 'The crowd seem excited!' 'It's turned into a beautiful day.' 'Does he really play *all* those drums?' 'I wonder who does their backdrop?' 'Nice glockenspiel.' The longer we were left alone, the more banal were the depths we plumbed.

And then the band arrived on stage. Watching them was a welcome distraction for forty minutes or so, an excuse not to wallow in our awkwardness. People around us were dancing or tapping their feet, and I tried to relax and enjoy the music. I did my best - it isn't every day you see your brother playing to an wildly cheering festival crowd. I *was* very proud of him. But I couldn't put my emotional turmoil out of my mind.

Niles stood stock still, through the whole set. I hadn't exactly been expecting him to pogo or anything; this was hardly his arena. Too much Doc Marten, not enough tassles. Even so, I found his rigid posture quite distracting, despite the physical distance between us. I couldn't concentrate on much else. It was like the time Billy took me to the pictures to see 'All Creatures Great and Small' - I'd been entertaining thoughts of becoming a vet at the time, and my brother had this crush on Anthony Hopkins - and I saw my Home Economics teacher Miss Minns sitting in the row in front with Mr Coopland from Humanities. Watching the film hadn't been easy, that afternoon.

I spent a lot of the Indigo Haze set asking myself whether Niles' bad mood was down to him being angry, or upset. The best answer I could come up with was, 'Yes.'

So I came to a decision. I couldn't ignore the situation and hope things would improve, and I was damned if I was going to let the incident ruin what had been a perfectly enjoyable and rewarding friendship for me. I concluded that I would speak to Niles about what I had witnessed earlier. I'd tell him after Michael's set, before Maggie returned to our spot on the embankment. At least if things were out in the open, we could deal with them as adults.

The band finished and the crowd cheered. I cheered too, and Niles clapped enthusiastically. Michael lined up with the rest of the band to bow and wave at the crowd. My littlest big brother ... I should have been thinking only of him and his achievements, and I felt terribly selfish, that I was so maudlin at such a time.

Nevertheless, when we settled down again, I plunged right in.

"Niles," I began.

"Yes?" he said, so quickly it was startling. We paused and then smiled awkwardly at each other.

"I owe you an explanation."

"Yes, you do," he agreed. He wasn't being snooty with me, even though he does 'snooty' very well, sometimes.

"I'm sorry," I offered, for the way the afternoon had gone. "I really am, for putting you through so much worry, earlier."

"Oh, forget that, it's over and done with," he generously suggested. "Let's try talking about *why* you went missing. You're obviously unhappy about something."

I nodded. Dr Niles Crane, psychiatrist. I suppose he can't help being a therapist, it isn't something he can switch off. Only, having initiated the conversation, the words weren't coming like I'd hoped. I was at a loss. All I could think to do was cut to the chase.

So I cut.

"Thing is ... well, I overheard what you said to Maggie, earlier. After she kissed you. It kind of ... well, it was a shock. I didn't know how to deal with it."

And that was it. An awkward, stumbling sentence in the middle of a busy field, under a baking hot sun, with others moving and shouting and laughing only a few feet away, and everything was suddenly in the open between us.

Niles frowned, then he narrowed his eyes in thought as he cast his mind back, and then recognition coloured his expression for the fleeting instant I could still see it, before he lowered his head suddenly, and I was left staring at the top of his new beige sun-hat.

"Oh," he said.

I sat there waiting, because there was nothing more I wanted to say, for the time being. I suppose, in retrospect, I was waiting for him to declare himself properly. I wanted to *hear* the words, not *overhear* them. I think I might have been trembling, even under the warm sun. As I gazed at the top of Niles' head and tried to prepare myself to hear his soft, well-spoken voice say the words, I even allowed myself to consider that there might be a way through all the obstacles which would prevent us exploring this spark between us.

I wasn't prepared for the way Niles' shoulders suddenly began to shake with laughter.

"What?" I asked sharply. I've never liked the idea that I may be the butt of a joke. Niles lifted his head and curbed his chuckles, raising an apologetic hand. He composed himself. There were even tears of mirth shining in his eyes.

I felt a little bit nauseous, all of a sudden.

"Oh Daphne, I'm so sorry," he gasped, as he regained control of his voice. "You heard me tell Maggie I'm in love with you?" I nodded warily, and he sighed. "And that made you go running off on your own for an hour?" I nodded again. "Daphne - why did you get yourself so worked up? Surely you must have known I was simply deflecting Maggie's attentions!"

I went quite, quite cold. Could all this have been a stupid misunderstanding?

"You told her ... what you said ... to stop her flirting with you?" I summarised hesitantly.

"Well, by that time it was a little more than flirtation, as I'm sure you witnessed." Niles looked at me, and his face was a mask of warm concern and nothing more. "But yes. Maggie made the suggestion, and I was happy to let her believe it, because it was an easy way to let her down. I didn't want her feeling bad! What else was I supposed to say?"

There was a pause, which threatened to stretch out a little too long for comfort. "Well, don't I feel like an idiot," I managed to observe. I looked away from Niles and peered up into the sky. "I got myself all wound up over nothing!"

Niles huffed a sharp laugh in return, then asked, "Are we friends?"

I looked back at him, and his face had changed. He was tentative and uncertain again.

"Oh, of course we are, you silly sausage!" I agreed, hoping that I sounded relieved. I shuffled over to him and we shared a hug.

Niles was so warm against me, for those fleeting seconds. I was conscious of every physical detail; I could feel his heart beating and the muscles in his arms squeezing. When we separated and I moved away, we smiled and began a nice, safe, neutral conversation about the set we'd just seen Michael play.

My thoughts, however, were far from resolved. Because even if Niles had been telling Maggie fibs in order to avoid her amorous intentions, there was still the matter of the feelings that I'd forced *myself* to acknowledge, earlier.

If Niles' feelings for me were not an issue, mine for him remained very much one.