15 original exam-style questions - 7 pages of questions with a full mark scheme - free printable PDF.
Original fiction extract written for Revision Library.
1 Amara Osei had never quite believed her grandmother's stories about the old rowing boat
2 until the August afternoon she found it herself. It was pushed beneath a grey tarpaulin
3 at the back of the shed, wedged between rusted garden tools and a stack of crab pots
4 that smelled faintly of salt and diesel. Amara knelt down and pulled at the corner
5 of the tarpaulin, coughing as a cloud of dust rose into the thin light. Underneath was
6 a small wooden rowing boat, its blue paint peeling in long curled strips, one oar missing
7 and the other cracked along its handle.
8 "That was your grandad's," said Nan, appearing in the doorway with a mug of tea in each hand.
9 "He built her himself, out the back of the caravan, the summer before you were born.
10 Called her the Curlew, after the birds that used to nest along the saltings."
11 Amara ran her fingers over the faded letters painted along the hull. She had never met
12 her grandfather; he had died two winters before she was born, and most of what she knew
13 of him came from photographs and from the careful, half-finished sentences her grandmother
14 offered whenever his name came up. She had not expected to feel anything, kneeling in a
15 dusty shed on Mersea Island, but something in her chest tightened all the same.
16 Over the following week, while her parents unpacked boxes in the cottage and argued gently
17 about where the bookshelves should go, Amara spent every spare hour in the shed. She sanded
18 the peeling paint, following the grain of the wood the way her grandmother showed her,
19 and mended the cracked oar with wood glue and a strip of old sailcloth. Nan watched from
20 a folding chair by the door, offering advice about tides and currents that Amara only
21 half understood, and occasionally telling another fragment of a story about the man
22 who had built the boat.
23 By the following Saturday, the Curlew looked almost seaworthy again, her hull a patchy
24 but honest blue, her oars bound tight with tape. Amara wanted, more than anything, to take
25 her out onto the water before her parents noticed how much time she had spent in the shed
26 instead of unpacking.
27 "Not on your own, and not near the causeway," Nan warned, tapping the tide table pinned
28 beside the door. "The channel fills fast here. People who don't know it get caught out
29 within the hour."
30 Amara nodded, only half listening, already imagining herself rowing out past the moored
31 yachts towards the open water beyond the point.
32 She waited until the tide was high and her parents were busy with the removal van, then
33 dragged the Curlew down the slipway alone. The boat sat lower in the water than she expected,
34 and the first pull of the oars sent her spinning sideways rather than forward. It took
35 several clumsy strokes before she found any kind of rhythm, her arms already aching,
36 the shore sliding further away behind her.
37 It was only once she was well past the last of the moorings that Amara noticed the water
38 moving strangely around her, tugging the boat sideways towards the mudflats rather than
39 letting her glide across them. The tide, she realised with a lurch of panic, had already
40 begun to turn. She thought of the tide table by the shed door, of her grandmother's
41 warning, and of how confidently she had ignored it.
42 She turned the boat as best she could and rowed hard, her palms stinging, the mudflats
43 rising closer on either side like a trap slowly closing. By the time she reached the
44 slipway her arms were shaking and her grandmother was standing at the water's edge,
45 arms folded, her face pale with worry rather than anger.
46 "I should have listened," Amara said, dragging the boat onto the concrete, unable to look up.
47 Nan didn't scold her. Instead she sat down on the slipway beside the Curlew and told
48 Amara, properly this time, about the day her grandfather had first launched the boat,
49 and the mistake with the tide that had taught him the same lesson thirty years before.