THE EVIDENCE SUGGESTS I once visited Newgrange, the huge Irish prehistoric tomb, around fifteen years ago. It’s not my evidence – I don’t take photos, and when I do, they just clog up my computer and the various backups I’ve got in place. There’s an old Pamela Allen picture book, Herbert & Harry (1986), that tells the story of two brothers who find a great treasure while fishing. Herbert pushes his brother out of the boat, takes his new treasure to the highest peak, digs it into the side of the cliff and rolls a stone across the entrance, burying all that gold in the mountain. He constructs a fort, pops in a few cannons and sits there sleepless, paranoid and miserable, while Harry (of course) lives a simple, happy life without any worries about treasure.

I’m the idiot brother, Herbert. I lock up these photos and never do anything with them. But my wife takes photos and even popped them in an album once, so the evidence is sound. I went to Newgrange.