A green plastic kettle, Morphy Richards, moderate limescale. A half-used box of teabags. A camera, an old Canon model, no film inside. Two pairs of jeans. A black skirt. Two cardigans, one badly wine stained. A couple of T-shirts. Various bits of underwear, mostly old, some fraying. A copy of the Evening Standard, dated 17th October 2005. A copy of the Selected Poems of Pablo Neruda, half the cover torn off, pages dog-eared. No annotations. One acoustic guitar, Yahama, warped fretboard, missing both E strings. Two books of tablature, both anthologies, both near new. An unopened pack of file cards. A tall, hairy cactus in a pot too small for it sitting in a dry, chipped bowl on the windowsill. In the top desk drawer, only a leaky fountain pen and a couple of paperclips. In the other drawer, some unused white envelopes and a pad of lined A4 paper, half the pages missing, the rest blank. Under the bed, a laddered pair of black tights and some loose papers, mostly inserts from magazines. A couple of Tesco receipts - groceries. One bank statement, November 2004, ingoings and outgoings approximately equal. One postcard, showing the Sears Tower. On the back a message from some guy called Frank who was having a great time in Chicago in April 2005. Will have to get that looked at. A worn-down bar of pink soap by the hot tap of the sink. Dresser cupboard empty, but drawer above it locked. No key in evidence. Picked the lock, but all that was in there was a copy of the fourth Harry Potter book. Illegible signature on the title page - three kisses beneath. First letter may be an M? No other annotations. Will have to get that looked at too. Down the back of the chair, twenty-two pence in coppers and a silver hair slide.
That's it. That's all.