We followed Nigel on through the maze of lanes and saw that nature had been left to run wild. It was unlike any cemetery I had ever seen. Far from having ordered lines of stones, this place was overgrown with weeds, moss and ivy, giving it the eerie but enchanting atmosphere of an eighteenth-century film set. As we progressed, we saw headstones with kneeling angels, bowed Madonnas, statues of women in veils, urns partially covered with cloths carved from stone.

‘You may look around now and we will reconvene in ten minutes,’ said Nigel, so Marcia and I took off to study the inscriptions on the headstones. We searched and searched but there was no sign of Grace Harris.

‘I’m going to ask Nigel,’ said Marcia, and marched over to where he was resting on a bench. ‘Excuse me, sir, but we’re looking for the grave of a Grace Harris, died 1943, and maybe the rest of the Harris family. Do you by any chance know where that might be?’

Nigel nodded. ‘I think I do. I know every grave in the place. I’ve been tending them for over fifty years.’

‘Might you be able to tell us where it is and if we may see it?’ Marcia persisted.

‘On the way back I’ll show you where to go,’ he said.

Marcia thanked him and came back over to me.

‘I’m not sure I want to find her grave,’ I said.

‘Oh come on, we can’t give up now,’ said Marcia, ‘we’re almost there.’

Our small party reconvened and, when the tour was over, Nigel led us back towards the entrance. As the tourists dispersed, we hung about until Nigel was free.

‘Now then ladies,’ he said. ‘What was the name again?’

‘Grace Harris, died 1943,’ said Marcia.

‘Give me a moment. I just want to check inside then I’ll be right back.’

He returned moments later. ‘I thought I recognized that name, I was doing some cleaning up that way only yesterday.’ He beckoned us to follow him back down the lane.

I hurried to keep up with him. ‘Don’t you get lost sometimes?’

He smiled and shook his head. ‘Doesn’t take long to find your way around, especially when you’ve been working here as long as I have.’

‘And to see the Lizzie Siddal grave, I have to come back on Friday?’

‘That’s right. If you come along for ten o’clock, a guide will be taking a group there.’

‘Great, thank you.’

Nigel led us off the main path and into an area where the headstones were less ostentatious. After a few minutes, he stopped. ‘I think this is the one you’re looking for. I’ll leave you alone for a while then, when you’re done, come back to the entrance. I’ll be waiting for you there.’