The room was very tidy. Dishes stood to attention on the draining rack. Two empty milk bottles perched on the end of the counter waiting to go outside. A small pan of milk stood on the cooker; a film indicating it had been boiled and allowed to cool down. A bowl of dry dog food had been left on the table. Banjo pricked up his ears and started begging so Keith put it down for him before going into the next room.
The kitchen opened directly off the dining area of the open plan living area. A highly polished white table was surrounded by curvy moulded plastic chairs. Abstract paintings, suggestive of grass and woodland, hung on the walls. A open bookshelf separated the living and dining areas and Keith could see there was no one about. He walked over to the other end of the room and checked behind the angular sofas. Nothing. Everything was as clean and tidy as a magazine spread.
A flight of open tread stairs led up from the centre of the room. Keith was surprised as he had always thought it was a bungalow.