GL-Style Mixed Mock 9: Maths and English - Worksheets, Questions and Revision

Lane Four

Original fiction written for Revision Library; no external source reproduced.

The chlorine smell hit Priya Adeyemi-Clarke before she had even pushed through the changing-room doors, sharp and sour and horribly familiar from every dread-filled Tuesday afternoon of her old school's swimming lessons. Three weeks into her new life at Millbrook Academy, and here she was, laces tied in a shaking double knot, about to take part in her very first school gala.

"You're going to be fine," said Ayesha Rahman, dropping her kit bag onto the bench beside Priya's with a thud. Ayesha had been the first person to talk to Priya on her first day, and in three short weeks had become the closest thing to a best friend Priya had at Millbrook. "Everyone's nervous before their first race. Even me, and I've done about a hundred of these."

Priya managed a weak smile, though the knot in her stomach only pulled tighter. She had swum plenty of lengths in her life, but always from the safety of the pool steps, never once launching herself from a diving block the way the other Year 6 swimmers seemed to do so effortlessly.

Poolside, the noise was tremendous: whistles shrieking, feet slapping on wet tiles, and the constant echoing splash of forty different strokes happening at once. The gala had begun at 9:15 sharp, and by the time Priya's race, the 50 metres freestyle, was called for Lane 4, it was already gone half past ten.

"Swimmers, take your marks," called Mr Whitfield, the PE teacher, his whistle raised. Priya climbed onto the block, toes curling over the wet edge, and felt her legs turn to jelly beneath her.

Ayesha's voice cut through the noise from somewhere in the stands. "Count to three and go, Priya! Just like we practised!"

The whistle blew. Priya counted silently, desperately, one, two, three, and threw herself forward before her nerves could change her mind. The dive was clumsy, more of a controlled fall than the sleek entries the other swimmers managed, but she surfaced, gasping, already swimming.

Her arms burned by the second length, her lungs screaming for air she didn't have time to take, but somewhere above the roar of the crowd she could hear Ayesha's voice, cracked and hoarse from shouting, still calling her name. Priya touched the wall, chest heaving, and looked up at the scoreboard through streaming, chlorine-stung eyes.

Third place. Not first, not even close, but eleven seconds faster than she had ever swum before.

"You did it!" Ayesha was already crouched at the poolside, grinning, holding out a towel. "You actually dived off the block!"

Mr Whitfield jogged over, clipboard in hand. "Good swim, Adeyemi-Clarke," he said, checking something off his list. "That takes real courage, getting up on that block for the first time in front of everyone. Well done."

Priya wrapped the towel around her shoulders, shivering slightly despite the warmth spreading through her chest that had nothing to do with the pool water. Three weeks ago she hadn't known a single face at Millbrook Academy; now, dripping and grinning on the poolside with Ayesha's arm looped around her shoulders and steering her towards the vending machine for a well-earned hot chocolate, she finally felt like she belonged.