The seller's house was frigid; definitely colder than the winter breeze which blew across the moors that morning.

As she followed the man through the living room, full of half unpacked boxes and empty takeout containers, Tammy wondered if he ever put his heating on.

"The dog's just through here," he told her, stepping over a vacant pizza box. "Ladies first."

Tammy's cheeks burned, not at all used to any manner of chivalry. She darted past him, forgetting any politeness her parents had taught her.

The kitchen was small and covered in a thick layer of undisturbed dust, with only a round table in the corner for furniture.

"Wait," she whispered, observing the lack of disturbance in the grime coated floor. "Where's the-"