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UK GCSE MAY 2006 : Foundation Tier, English Paper 1

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General Certificate of Secondary Education 2006 Paper 1 Foundation Tier G2901 English [G2901] TUESDAY 30 MAY, AFTERNOON TIME 2 hours. INSTRUCTIONS TO CANDIDATES Write your Centre Number and Candidate Number on the Answer Booklet provided. Answer all four questions. Answer the three questions in Section A and the one question in Section B. Spend one hour on Section A and one hour on Section B. INFORMATION FOR CANDIDATES The total mark for this paper is 60. Figures in brackets printed down the right-hand side of pages indicate the marks awarded to each question or part question. G291F6 1023 Section A This section tests reading skills. Spend about 15 minutes reading the passage carefully. Answer all three questions. Martin Duck Oduki was abandoned in Dublin by a Nigerian father and an Irish mother. After living rough on the streets and getting into trouble he was put into a care centre. He hated it there and eventually ran away to the country, taking shelter in a chapel . . . A different noise had awakened him on what proved to be his last morning in the chapel: a dull thud against the chapel door; the sound of whistling and footsteps approaching. Duck crept quickly to the door and peered out. The lumbering figure of a tall, stockily built boy, trailing a hurley stick behind him, loomed threateningly ten metres away. He walked on, turned, tossed the ball in the air and struck it with all his might. Duck winced as the ball cannoned off the metal door behind which he was hiding. His heart pounded as he dared to peep out at this intruder into his world. He noticed a shock of red hair dancing above a freckled face, but it was the look on that face and the arrogant saunter of the boy that made Duck even more uneasy. This boy knew something. He wasn t there just to practise his hurling. Duck would simply have to make a run for it and hope for the best. His best chance would be when the boy s back was turned. He peered out of the door. Too late this time. The boy was about to strike the ball. Duck closed his eyes, awaiting the thud. It never came. Instead there was a loud oath from the boy as the ball soared above the door, hit the roof, spun upwards and trickled down the other side of the chapel. This was Duck s chance. He waited as the muttering boy went in search of the ball. Duck slipped out and crept along the chapel wall, around the corner and along the end wall. The redheaded boy was poking among nettles with his hurley stick, occasionally taking a wild swipe which cut a swathe through them. Now! Duck hopped across to the hedge. If he could get through to the other side, he would have cover. He found a gap and wriggled through the hedge. A twig snapped under his foot. The redhead looked up, caught a glimpse of Duck disappearing through the hedge, gave a wild throaty roar and took off in pursuit. The chase was on. Duck wrapped the straps of his hold-all around his arm and flew straight down the field towards the lake. His pursuer, though much bigger than Duck, moved awkwardly and often floundered in the long grass and nettles that grew along the hedge. He made an attempt to burst through the hedge but became entangled in briars and roared in pain. Duck reached the lake and turned left along the water s edge, weaving his way through the tall reeds. Behind him he heard the boy swearing as he stumbled again. Duck paused in a nest of reeds to catch his breath. His last glimpse of the boy was of a frustrated figure, madly flailing at the bramble hedge with his hurley stick. Duck smiled and went on his way. He knew exactly where he was heading. He d been on a scouting mission the previous day. Duck followed the lake-edge for another half-mile, then turned away to rising ground through a strange wood and then downhill again. He followed a narrow road, keeping to the G291F6 1023 2 5 10 15 20 25 30 [Turn over fields, until the road eventually petered out into a rough gravel track. The land on either side of the track was very low-lying. He followed the track through rushy fields until once again the ground began to rise. He made his way through a clump of pine trees and there it stood before him a neat whitewashed house. It was small and one-storeyed, though Duck had noticed a tiny window high in one gable. He kept well clear of the front of the house, moving in a wide arc through the pine trees to the back. Some distance from the house there was a cluster of outhouses. One of these was well packed with hay. Duck stole in and clambered his way to the top. He sank into the comfort and musty warmth of the hay, still clutching his hold-all. He was asleep, in spite of himself, within minutes. * * * Later, Duck chewed on a stem of hay and reflected on his fortune so far. He had been lucky in escaping from the redheaded boy and he had been lucky in finding this place. It was isolated from other houses and, though he had not seen its occupants, there was a welcoming air about the place something he couldn t explain but could definitely feel. A loud rumble from his stomach . . . He could not remember how long it had been since he had eaten, but he was starving now. He reached for his hold-all. There were only scraps of food left. Suddenly a low vicious growl came from below. Duck felt the hair tingling along the back of his head. He remained motionless but the growling continued, rising in pitch all the time. There was a shuffling noise as the door creaked open. A voice called softly, Is there someone there? Duck remained silent. Down, Scutch. Down! The voice was firmer. Is there anyone there? Duck said nothing but turned very slowly towards the voice and opened a peephole in the hay with his fingers. Slowly the slightly bent figure of a man came into view. To Duck he looked old, leaning heavily on a stick. The man spoke to the dog again and turned to go. As he made his way out of the shed, Duck realised that it wasn t his age or his bent figure that caused him to shuffle. He was feeling his way along with the stick. The man was blind. Luck was staying with him but so was the dog. Duck couldn t see it but the growling continued below him. The man turned, slapped his stick against his boot and called impatiently, Come on, Scutch. Come on out of that! Duck lay back in relief. Another problem overcome for the moment. He searched in his hold-all for food. A few biscuits remained, soft and tasteless. His stomach was still rumbling. He would have to go in search of food. A low growl came from below. That dog again. A voice spoke to the dog. A different voice. There was a pause and then Come on down from there, whoever you are! It was a woman s voice. Another pause. Come on. And if you try any tricks, I have a dog and a pitchfork here that you ll answer to. There was a sharpness in the woman s voice that commanded respect. Duck looked about him. There was no other way out. He would have to face the woman. He rose slowly in his hay-nest to a kneeling position. The woman stood in a defensive pose, clutching the pitchfork tightly. When she saw the black face of a young boy emerge above her, a great change came over her. Glory be to God! she whispered, casting the pitchfork aside and giving the growling dog a kick. Be quiet, Scutch! she muttered. Come on down, child. He won t harm you and neither will I! Duck slithered down the hay, landing directly in front of the woman. He could have made a dash for freedom but the woman s gaze was almost hypnotic. She was of slim build, her white hair swept back from the lined, weather-beaten face that had seen many years of toil. But it was the bright blue eyes that held him. As they faced each other, a kindly smile transformed her face and tears welled into her eyes. Glory be to God! she whispered again, her eyes now watering openly. You re a home-child, aren t you? she said softly. G291F6 1023 3 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 [Turn over A what? Duck queried, half-embarrassed, half-puzzled by the woman s reaction to him. A home-child. You ve come from a home, an institution. I can see it in your eyes. Duck shrugged his shoulders. The woman wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, wiped her hands in her apron and reached out to place her hands on the boy s shoulders. You need have no fear in this place. We will look after you. I can see that you re hungry too. Come child. Come and eat. You re with friends now. She offered her hand to him. Duck saw his own hand take hers, almost as if it were not part of him. She grasped it warmly and led the boy from the shed into the bright daylight outside, across a little paddock and into the kitchen of the thatched house. The kitchen was cool and welcoming. Sit down there, child, and I ll get you something to eat. Duck sat in a chair by the fire. A big black kettle hung on a crook over the fire and droned away happily. Duck surveyed his surroundings. A huge dresser ran along one wall, laden with an assortment of china and crockery. An old television set sat on a window-sill. The woman worked away in one corner, moving between a small fridge and a gas cooker. She sang quietly to herself as she stood over the cooker, taking an occasional glance at the boy. The delicious smells coming from the cooker were almost overpowering. Duck tried to ignore them by observing his surroundings even more closely. An alarm clock ticked away on the mantel over the fireplace, and attached to the chimney-breast was a very ancientlooking hurley stick, blackened by years of soot and smoke. Two hens soon appeared in the doorway, cackling softly. Shoo! the woman cried. Can t you see I have a visitor? There was delight in her voice. At last she summoned Duck to the table and placed before him the biggest fry he had ever seen rashers, sausages, and two fried eggs. Eat now, child, she said, putting a pot of tea in front of him. Eat now. We can talk later. Duck enjoyed every delicious mouthful. It was his first proper meal in over a week. He ate quickly and with pleasure. When he stole a glance at the woman, she simply urged him to continue eating. He soaked up the last of the fried eggs with a piece of delicious homemade bread, chasing every last crumb around the plate. That was lovely, he said at last. You needed it and you enjoyed it, the woman replied. Now if you feel like talking, tell me what brings you here. Duck sat back in the chair. For the second time in a week, he told his story to a complete stranger. He told it because she had won his confidence in the way she spoke to him, in the way she understood his needs, but above all in the way she looked at him. She never interrupted as he spoke, occasionally nodding in support of what he said. He finished his story. And what is your name, child? Martin. He would keep the rest in reserve for the moment. Well, Martin, it s a familiar story you tell, she sighed. I know it all too well. You see, forty years ago I was in the same position. I was a home-child too. 85 90 95 100 105 110 115 120 Adapted from Duck and Swan by John Quinn G291F6 1023 4 [Turn over 1 Spend about 10 minutes on your answer. Use evidence from lines 92 112 to answer this question. How does the writer s description of the kitchen and its atmosphere develop a sense of safety and comfort? [8] 2 Spend about 15 minutes on your answer. Use evidence from line 66 to the end of the passage to support your answer. What do you learn about the woman? In your answer you should refer to: the words and phrases used to describe her the way she behaves her attitude to Duck. 3 [10] Spend about 20 minutes on your answer. Use evidence from the whole passage. How has the writer tried to capture the attention of the reader? You should consider how the writer: makes the events exciting creates interesting characters uses changes in mood within the passage uses descriptive words and phrases. G291F6 1023 [12] 5 [Turn over Section B This section tests writing skills: to review, analyse and comment. Write in a way that suits this type of task. To answer this question effectively, you should aim to write at least two sides in the answer booklet. Leave enough time to re-read your work so that you can make any changes you feel are necessary. 4 Consider the following statement and the issues it raises: Anyone under 18 should not be allowed into places where alcohol is on sale. The opinions below raise a series of points about this topic. The examiner wants you to review the points that you consider to be important, along with ideas of your own. Analyse these in an extended piece of writing. You are expected to include your own comments and conclusions. There are many very young teenagers getting into pubs and clubs. You do not have to drink alcohol just because you are in a place that serves it. You can see young teenagers staggering around drunk on our streets any night of the week. There is nowhere else to go for a good night out with your mates. [30] THIS IS THE END OF THE QUESTION PAPER G291F6 1023 6 [Turn over Permission to reproduce all copyright material has been applied for. In some cases, efforts to contact copyright holders may have been unsuccessful and CCEA will be happy to rectify any omissions of acknowledgement in future if notified. S 4/05 13000 302507(12) [Turn over

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