‘Sobering, isn’t it?’ said Marcia as we continued on past headstone after headstone. ‘We’re all going to die but it’s rarely talked about. If reincarnation is true, I wonder how many of the people under there,’ she pointed to the ground, ‘are out here now living new lives.’

‘Whatever the truth, being here makes you realize you really do have to seize the day and live the life you have now to the fullest.’

‘Which is why I think this search for Billy is important,’ said Marcia. ‘Of all the things that makes life the best, love has to be number one.’

As we continued on, I thought about the loves I had lost in different ways. Being in the cemetery, surrounded by death, was bringing up to the surface so many feelings I’d worked hard to bury. ‘This place is getting to me,’ I said. ‘I think we need to do something more cheerful afterwards.’

Marcia put her arm around me and gave me a squeeze. She knew what I was thinking.

‘The Victorians loved the symbolism of death,’ said Nigel as he indicated a statue of an angel. ‘For example, an upturned torch in an angel’s hand was to show life extinguished; another popular symbol is the broken pillar showing a strength cut off.’

We turned a corner and I gasped. In front of us was a wide stone gateway flanked by massive obelisks that were worthy of the entrance to a temple in ancient Egypt. It was stunning and so unexpected to come across in the middle of a graveyard on a grey day in North London.

‘And now we come to the most famous part of the cemetery,’ said Nigel as we followed him through into a tunnel lined with tall chambers with classic columns surrounding them. ‘Sometimes called the avenue of death; other times it is called Egyptian avenue. If you follow me through, you will see it leads to an area named the Circle of Lebanon.’

‘I feel like Alice who’s fallen through into some weird wonderland. I had no idea this existed.’

‘Yes, but don’t forget why we’re here,’ said Marcia. ‘Keep looking at the headstones for the Harris family and, if we don’t see one, we can ask Nigel.’

At the end of the tunnel, we were led up some steps to where there was an enormous cypress tree on top of a circular corridor, lined underneath with grand doorways leading into tombs behind them.

‘I doubt if we’re going to find Grace here,’ I said. ‘These tombs look like they were for people who were seriously loaded.’