The new family had two children, two boys. They both went to the same school as two other children who lived two doors down from them. The children from two doors down had known these boys before they had moved to the road and they both thought that they were strange but not this strange.
Apparently the mother was a writer who spent most of her time sat in the front room typing away, writing thriller novels. She had published thirteen of her books though not many of the neighbours knew what she did for a living. No one knew what the father did, all anyone saw was him leave early in the morning and return when it was dark. Neither of them were ever caught leaving the house to go to the shop and it would be a miracle if you were to see them on their drive or in their garden. Secretive and suspicious were the correct words to describe this family.
The youngest son once asked the boy from two doors down, who was in the same year as him, if he had anything to strangle. Not normal! He was a short, plump boy who wore thick- rimmed glasses and was never seen outside the house except for when he went to school. The oldest son was in the same year as the girl from two doors down and they sat next to each other in a lesson for half a year. He had long, messy, curly hair and was short too. He was into computing and programming and never really spoke much. The only main interaction he had had with the girl was when he had helped her with a question on an exam paper. He was a weird person.