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The first time I saw Ben was when his family moved in next door. It was a hot, sunny day and we'd heard mat the new neighbours were arriving that day. Our old neighbours, the Sharpes, had moved out a couple of months before and, to be honest, we had not been sorry to see them go. They were an argumentative couple and once a month, there would be one or other of them at the door, going on about noise, or our cat, or where Dad parked his car. We were all hoping that whoever moved in next would make a bit more of an effort to get on. That morning, Mum and Dad were both busy on various projects of their own. With Mum, it was her ongoing attempt to turn herself into her idea of a traditional housewife, at least for a weekend. She was going through a baking phase so she spent hours in the kitchen making biscuits that were either too hard or too sweet for even my young taste. She had a successful career as a lawyer so she didn't take her domestic failure too out badly. Dad was decorating one of the bedrooms. I was cycling up and down the street, looking for the removal van every time I reached the corner and turned back. I wanted to be the first to see it so that I could then be the one to dash inside with the news. Finally, a large green van with the words ' Baxter's Removals ' in gold lettering on the side turned into our street, followed by a blue car. I can't say mat that was the moment when I first saw Ben, although I suppose I registered that there were people in the car. I was too busy dropping my bicycle by the side of the road and running into the house Hillage, ' they're here! They're here! ' Mum wiped her hands on a towel and said, ' Yes, Katy. Let them settle in, though. We'll give them a few hours before we start bothering them, shall we? ' I felt disappointed that her reaction wasn't more like my own. I ran back outside and down our garden path to the front gate. I stood, on the gate, watching. By this time, the removal van and the car had both pulled up next door and two large workmen had begun to open up the back of the van. Inside were neatly packed items of furniture. The family had also got out of the car and were looking up at the house as if they'd never seen it before, although Dad said he'd seen them looking round when they were thinking of buying it. The man was tall and dark-skinned, while the woman was very beautiful and looked younger than my own mum. They were clearly there to die the moment of arriving at a new place. A boy of about my own age stood between them, looking at me. He didn't smile. They unlocked the door and went inside, the workmen following with the first of their belongings. I watched for a while as they came back and forth with boxes, banging them down noisily, occasionally pointing to tell each other where to put things. I had an odd feeling of being watched and something made me look up. At one of the windows stood the boy, looking down at me. I smiled and he disappeared into the room. I had had such high hopes, and now it seemed that it was going to take a lot of hard work to make friends. I sighed and watched the workmen a little longer. Just as I was thinking of going inside to see how Dad was getting on, I heard a small voice behind me. ' I'm Ben. Hello. ' I turned to see the boy standing behind me.Source: http://reftrend.ru/339020.html
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