5 original exam-style questions - 4 pages of questions with a full mark scheme - free printable PDF.
Source written for Revision Library (original, copyright-free). This extract is from the opening of a story. A teenager, Maren, has returned alone to a coastal house that her family used to visit.
The gate had rusted to the colour of dried blood, and it screamed when Maren pushed it. She had forgotten that sound. She had forgotten, too, how the house leaned into the wind as though it were listening for something out at sea.
Nothing had changed and everything had changed. The paint still peeled from the door in long grey curls, but the curls were longer now, and a fern had unrolled itself in the gutter where no fern had any business growing. Maren stood on the path and counted the windows, the way she had counted them when she was six: one, two, three, and the small dark one at the top that had always been hers.
The key was where it had always been, under the third flowerpot, furred with green. It turned stiffly. Inside, the air was thick and still, and it smelled of salt and old paper and something underneath that she did not want to name. Dust lay over the furniture like the first fall of snow, unbroken, undisturbed. No one had been here in a long time. No one but her, now.
She walked from room to room and the floorboards spoke to her in their old language, each creak a word she half remembered. In the kitchen a single cup sat on the table, exactly where someone had left it, waiting. She did not touch it. Through the window the sea was a flat grey line, and the tide was out, further out than she had ever seen it, so that the beach stretched on and on into the mist, wet and shining and empty.
Maren pressed her hand to the cold glass. Somewhere in the house, above her or behind her, a door closed softly, and she told herself it was the wind.