Michael and I didn't stop talking for hours. I worried, at first, about neglecting Niles (Maggie was too busy getting stoned for me to worry about her), but when I saw how well Niles was getting on with Pete the keyboardist, I knew my fears were groundless. After a while, the two of them got up and headed off toward the back of the trailer, talking about something called 'syncopation'.

Don't ask me.

It took a long time to catch up on everybody's news. Such is the way of things, when you come from such a big family. Michael told me all about Nigel's latest run in with the law, over a lock-up filled with fresh rock salmon, discovered after a Sainsburys delivery lorry had overturned on a local roundabout. Unfortunately, the salmon had been en route to an incinerator, following some heavily publicised health scare. My errant brother found himself not only lumbered with twelve cases of rapidly thawing, unsaleable product, but, after two days, couldn't disguise its presence, either. That was Nigel. The only reason he hadn't spent the greater part of his adult life in prison was because the Manchester Metropolitan Police knew they'd lose their greatest source of belly-laughs if he was sent down.

In less incriminating circumstances, Billy's dance school was flourishing. Michael had stayed with him in London on the tour, and told me that Billy and Toby were planning an Amsterdam wedding, but I wasn't to tell mum. As if I would. She still referred to Toby as Billy's flat-mate. My father refused to refer to him at all. I made a mental note to call Billy and offer my congratulations.

Michael wanted to hear all about my life in Seattle. He asked me about Mr Crane, about the apartment I lived in, about my social life. I told a few stories. I'd accumulated a surprising number of them over the last years. He laughed out loud when I told him about my pre-green card Canadian adventure, and cheered me on when I described playing darts for territorial rights to the Fox and Whistle with my boss.

"Still not met that special someone?" my brother eventually (and inevitably) asked.

"Well, I did go out with someone for a while, but that kind of petered out, oh, heavens - more than two years ago now!" I replied, a little thrown when I realised how long I'd been single.

"That's a long time to go without your oats," he observed, quite shamelessly. "What about you and Niles then, eh, Stilts?" The latter comment was accompanied by a meaningful wink.

"What about me and Niles?" I was on the defensive immediately, although I couldn't quite work out why that should be.

"You know!" I got an elbow to the ribs. "Come on, Daph, I'm your brother. If you won't tell me, then I'll have to ask Niles if his intentions are honourable. It's my duty."

"You'll do no such bloody thing!" I demanded. "There's nothing going on between us. He's my boss's brother, that's all."

"So I'm seeing things, then, am I?"

"Seeing what?"

Michael grinned mischievously. "Oh, the sparks that are flying through the air whenever you two look at each other ..."

I backhanded my brother across the chest. "Yes, Mickey Mouse. You are very definitely seeing things." Sparks? Surely not. My heart was suddenly beating a little too quickly and I felt as though I were teetering on a cliff edge, about to fall. I swallowed and said firmly, and just a little bit too loudly, "Me and Niles Crane? I thought you were a musician, not a comedian!" My brother shrugged at me. "Honestly, the only reason I let him tag along this weekend was because I wanted to use the Winnebago and needed a driver!"

Michael frowned at me. I tried to hold my gaze steady, but he clearly wasn't convinced. Luckily, he didn't push the issue, and I hauled myself back from the cliff edge.

We changed the subject.

Approximately twenty minutes later, Niles and Pete returned to the main room. I looked at my American friend as he settled in around the table once again, marvelling at how quickly he'd managed to integrate himself into this alien setting, and guilt consumed me. What had made me tell such an awful lie about him?

And who was I really lying to?

Niles caught my eye and grinned, so I smiled back. When I turned to Michael again, my little brother leaned in really close, nudging my shoulder with his, and whispered in my ear, "What did I tell you, Daphers? Sparks. They could put you and him either side of the main stage and use you for pyrotechnics!"

For some reason, I felt like screaming in frustration.