The oil lamps on the table cast a warm cosy glow, accentuating the gleaming lustre of the wooden table at the centre of the kitchen. The little shopping trolley for the herbs and dish towel would give the impression that she was kitsch and homely.
Hopefully they wouldn’t notice the smell of rotting flesh; if they did, hopefully she could explain it away…
There was a knock at the door, she could hear the voice of the estate agent outside; too late now.
She smoothed down her apron, patted the bun in her hair, and went to greet her visitors.