Mark Scheme

Section A: Reading (40 marks)

Question 1 (4 marks)

AO1: Identify and interpret explicit and implicit information and ideas.

Award one mark for each point identified, up to a maximum of four marks.

Acceptable answers include:

1. She is trembling / nervous / shaking (evidence: "key still trembling in my hand")
2. Her chest feels tight / she feels anxious / physically affected (evidence: "My chest tightened")
3. She regrets coming alone / feels she made a mistake (evidence: "I shouldn't have come alone")
4. She is surprised / didn't expect things to be unchanged (evidence: "I had expected dust, cobwebs... but everything was exactly as she'd left it")
5. She feels the silence is oppressive / pressing / uncomfortable (evidence: "silence pressed against my eardrums")

Accept: Any reasonable identification of the narrator's feelings from lines 1-12.

Reject: Copying out large sections of text without identifying a specific feeling; answers referring to events outside lines 1-12.

Question 2 (8 marks)

AO2: Explain, comment on and analyse how writers use language and structure to achieve effects and influence readers, using relevant subject terminology to support their views.

This question assesses Language, i.e. the writer's choice of words, phrases, language features and techniques and sentence forms.

Mark scheme using levels of response:

Indicative content – students may refer to:

Language features and techniques:

• Personification of the drawer: "The drawer opened with a sigh, as if the house itself were exhaling" – creates sense that the house is alive/sentient
• Semantic field of death: "d. 1953", "d. 1979", "To the dead" – emphasises morbid atmosphere
• Metaphor: "swam before my eyes" – suggests disorientation, loss of control
• Adjective "harmless" juxtaposed with sinister context – creates tension between rationalization and reality
• Sensory imagery: "blurring and refocusing" – conveys narrator's physical and mental disorientation

Words and phrases:

• Verb "gripped" – suggests desperation, need for physical anchor
• "Harmless eccentricity" – rational explanation that the text undercuts
• Time references creating impossibility: "Two weeks after Gran's own death" – builds supernatural tension
• "Careful handwriting" – emphasises grandmother's deliberateness, suggesting this wasn't madness

Sentence forms:

• Short sentence: "To the dead." – creates dramatic pause, emphasises shocking revelation
• Longer sentence with embedded clauses: "This was grief, I told myself... something we'd never had the chance to diagnose" – mirrors the narrator's attempt to rationalize
• Rhetorical question implied by the final statement about dates – engages reader in the mystery

Accept: Any valid interpretation supported by textual reference.

Question 3 (8 marks)

AO2: Explain, comment on and analyse how writers use language and structure to achieve effects and influence readers, using relevant subject terminology to support their views.

This question assesses how the writer has structured the whole text.

Indicative content – students may refer to:

Beginning focus:

• Opens with the narrator in the hallway – establishes threshold/boundary motif
• Initial focus on sensory details and emotions – grounds reader in narrator's experience
• Introduces expectation then subverts it ("I had expected dust, cobwebs... but") – creates first moment of unease

Development/shifts in focus:

• Shift from hallway to morning room – progressive movement deeper into house mirrors deeper entry into mystery
• Temporal shift: from present moment to backstory about Gran – provides context while building intrigue
• Focus narrows to specific object (the desk, then drawer) – classic mystery structure of discovery
• Shift from rational explanation ("grief... dementia") to supernatural impossibility (letter dated after Gran's death) – escalation

Narrative perspective:

• First person allows access to narrator's thoughts and rationalisations
• Rhetorical questions ("How could she have written...?") directly involve reader

Cyclical structure:

• References to death throughout create cumulative effect
• Clock motif: stopped, then starts – brackets the escalation

Withholding information:

• The contents of the letter are not revealed – ends on cliffhanger
• References to "photographs I'd glimpsed once as a child" – hints at deeper mystery

Pacing:

• Longer, descriptive paragraphs at start slow pace, establish setting
• Shorter paragraphs and sentences as tension builds ("I don't remember sitting down...")
• Final section quickens pace through narrator's increasing panic

Accept: Any valid structural comment supported by textual reference.

Question 4 (20 marks)

AO4: Evaluate texts critically and support this with appropriate textual references.

Indicative content – students may consider:

Arguments supporting the statement:

Growing sense of dread:

• Temperature drop: "impossibly cold, though it was May" – physical manifestation of fear
• Breathing imagery: "short, sharp gasps" – physical symptoms of panic
• Escalation from unease to terror through accumulation of impossible events
• Sensory details: seeing breath, movement in mirror – makes supernatural tangible
• The narrator's internal monologue: "I should leave... I should walk out" – expresses desire to escape
• Clock starting: "The ticking grew louder" – auditory manifestation of threat

Inability to escape:

• "Instead, I picked up the nearest letter" – despite fear, curiosity compels her
• Physical description: "on the floor, envelopes scattered around me" – shows loss of control
• Psychological compulsion described: "my finger under the seal" – cannot resist despite fear
• Structure keeps narrator (and reader) in the room – no escape offered in the text
• First person perspective traps reader in narrator's experience

Writer's methods:

• Use of present tense at key moments creates immediacy
• Short sentences and paragraphs increase pace and breathlessness
• Repetition: "I was sure" emphasises disbelief but also entraps her in the moment
• Semantic field of entrapment: "pressed", "gripped", "clutching"
• Contrast between rational voice ("This was grief") and irrational reality

Alternative interpretations (students may argue these reduce the sense of dread/entrapment):

• The narrator does have agency – she chooses to open the letter
• Some moments of calm description reduce claustrophobic effect
• Not all readers will find supernatural elements frightening
• The narrator's analytical voice creates some distance

Accept: Any relevant evaluative comment supported with textual reference. Students do not need to agree with the statement to achieve high marks; they must evaluate it critically.

Section B: Writing (40 marks)

Question 5 (40 marks)

Content and Organisation (24 marks)
Technical Accuracy (16 marks)

AO5: Communicate clearly, effectively and imaginatively, selecting and adapting tone, style and register for different forms, purposes and audiences. Organise information and ideas, using structural and grammatical features to support coherence and cohesion of texts.

AO6: Use a range of vocabulary and sentence structures for clarity, purpose and effect, with accurate spelling and punctuation.

Content and Organisation – AO5 (24 marks)

Technical Accuracy – AO6 (16 marks)

Guidance:

• Students may choose either the descriptive or narrative task
• Both tasks are marked using the same assessment criteria
• For descriptive writing, look for sensory detail, atmospheric vocabulary, and crafted description
• For narrative writing, look for characterisation, plot development, and narrative voice
• Technical accuracy should be assessed holistically across the response
• Minor slips do not prevent a response achieving Level 4 if the overall control is secure

Sample Answers with Examiner Commentary

Question 4 — Sample Answers

Grade 9 (top of Higher) answer

I strongly agree with this statement. The writer skilfully manipulates both language and structure to create an overwhelming sense of claustrophobic dread that intensifies throughout the passage, while simultaneously demonstrating the narrator's psychological inability to extract herself from the situation, despite her conscious recognition of danger.

The "growing sense of dread" is meticulously constructed through an accumulation of increasingly impossible and supernatural occurrences. The writer begins with subtle unease—the coincidence of the stopped clock showing "3:47, the exact time she'd died"—which the narrator attempts to rationalise: "I knew that was coincidence. I told myself it was coincidence." This self-directed reassurance immediately creates doubt in the reader's mind; the repetition of "coincidence" suggests the narrator is trying to convince herself, foreshadowing that rationality will prove inadequate. As the discoveries escalate—letters addressed to the dead, a letter dated after Gran's death—the dread becomes inescapable. The writer's use of short, declarative sentences at moments of revelation is particularly effective: "To the dead." This blunt statement, isolated as its own paragraph, forces the reader to confront the horror alongside Maya, creating no buffer of explanation or rationalisation.

The physical manifestations of fear are rendered viscerally real through precise sensory language. The temperature drop—"impossibly cold, though it was May outside and the radiators were on"—defies natural explanation, and the visual proof of the narrator's breath creates an objective correlative for her mounting terror. The writer's description of her breathing in "short, sharp gasps" that "fogged in the cold air" makes the fear tangible and physical, not merely emotional. This grounds the supernatural elements in bodily reality, making them more immediate and threatening. When she sees "movement in the mirror," described as "a shape that might have been a person if people could exist in the spaces between light and dark," the writer brilliantly captures the ambiguity of peripheral vision while suggesting something genuinely otherworldly. The conditional clause "if people could exist" implies they normally cannot, yet something does.

However, it is the narrator's "inability to escape" that I find most compelling, and here the writer demonstrates psychological insight that goes beyond simple horror. Despite explicitly articulating her own best course of action—"I should leave. I should walk out of this room, out of this house, back to my car and my flat and my normal life"—Maya remains trapped, not by physical barriers but by compulsion. The triadic structure of "my car and my flat and my normal life" emphasises everything she would be returning to, making her failure to leave even more significant. The word "should" repeated twice reveals she knows what she ought to do, yet the very next paragraph begins with "Instead," immediately undermining any possibility of escape. This single word is devastating in its simplicity—it announces her capitulation to curiosity or fate or whatever force keeps her rooted there.

The writer also uses temporal manipulation to create entrapment. The narrator notes she "don't remember sitting down," a frightening loss of time and agency that suggests something beyond her conscious control is occurring. This disorientation is emphasised by the blurring of boundaries: "the two rhythms tangling together until I couldn't tell which was which" when describing her heartbeat and the clock's ticking. The loss of distinction between her own body and the sinister house suggests she is being absorbed into it, losing her autonomy. As readers experiencing this in first person, we too feel trapped in her consciousness, unable to warn her or escape ourselves.

The structural choice to end with Maya opening the letter is the ultimate demonstration of her inability to escape. Every rational impulse should make her flee, yet her final action is to engage more deeply with the mystery: "I slid my finger under the seal and opened it." The physical detail of the finger sliding under the seal is almost sensual, suggesting an irresistible attraction. The writer has structured the entire passage as a progressive movement inward—from threshold, to hallway, to room, to drawer, to envelope—each step taking Maya deeper into danger from which she apparently cannot retreat. The reader is pulled along this same trajectory, and the text's refusal to allow escape (it ends with the letter being opened, not with her fleeing) perfectly supports the student's observation.

In conclusion, the writer achieves both effects described in the statement through carefully layered technique: the dread grows through accumulation of impossible events rendered in visceral, sensory language, while the entrapment operates on both physical and psychological levels, with the first-person perspective ensuring the reader shares Maya's claustrophobic experience completely.

Mark: 20/20

Examiner commentary: This is a perceptive and critical response that demonstrates sophisticated evaluation throughout. The candidate engages convincingly with the statement, providing detailed analysis of both the writer's methods and their effects. The response selects judicious textual detail (quotations are well-chosen and integrated) and develops a critical, convincing argument. The candidate evaluates specific techniques (short sentences, sensory language, temporal manipulation, structural progression) and consistently links these to effects on the reader. The writing is itself sophisticated, using subject terminology accurately and demonstrating genuine literary criticism rather than simple feature-spotting. This response comfortably achieves Level 4, upper band.

Grade 6 (solid pass) answer

I agree with the statement that the writer makes the reader feel the narrator's growing sense of dread and her inability to escape.

The writer creates dread by including lots of creepy supernatural details. For example, the letters are addressed "To the dead" which is obviously impossible and makes the reader feel scared. The writer also mentions that one letter is to "Michael Porter, d. November 2023" which was "Two weeks after Gran's own death." This is impossible because dead people can't write letters, so it makes you feel like something supernatural and frightening is happening. The narrator asks "How could she have written to someone who died after she did?" which is a rhetorical question that makes the reader think about this impossible situation and feel confused and scared like Maya does.

Another way the writer creates dread is through the description of the room getting colder. Maya says "it was cold now—impossibly cold, though it was May outside and the radiators were on." The word "impossibly" shows that this isn't natural, and cold temperatures are often associated with ghosts and supernatural things in horror stories. The fact that she can see her breath shows how cold it really is, which makes it more real and frightening for the reader. The writer also describes movement "in the mirror" and "a shape that might have been a person." Mirrors are creepy in horror stories and the uncertainty about what she's seeing makes it more scary because we don't know exactly what it is.

The writer also shows that Maya is unable to escape. Even though she thinks "I should leave. I should walk out of this room" she doesn't actually do it. Instead she stays and opens the letter at the end: "I slid my finger under the seal and opened it." This shows she can't help herself even though she knows she should leave. It's like she's trapped by her curiosity. The text says she "scrambled to her feet" at one point which suggests panic and wanting to get away quickly, but then she doesn't actually leave, showing she's trapped.

The first person narration helps create the feeling of being trapped because we only know what Maya knows and we're stuck in her head. We can't escape from the story either, we have to keep reading to find out what happens, which is similar to how Maya can't leave the house. The writer uses quite long sentences sometimes which build up the tension, like when Maya is trying to convince herself it's just "grief" or "dementia" which is "A harmless eccentricity." But then this explanation doesn't work because of the impossible date on the letter.

The clock is also important for creating dread. At first it's stopped at "3:47, the exact time she'd died according to the hospital" which is a creepy coincidence. But then later "The clock in the corner ticked once. Then again." This shows it has started working even though it was stopped before. The short sentences "Then again" makes it more dramatic and scary. The ticking gets louder: "The ticking grew louder, or perhaps that was my heart" which shows Maya is getting more and more frightened and can't tell what's real anymore.

In conclusion, I agree with the student's statement because the writer uses supernatural events, cold temperature, mirrors, the clock, and Maya's inability to leave even though she wants to, to create a sense of growing dread and entrapment. The first person perspective also makes the reader feel trapped with Maya.

Mark: 13/20

Examiner commentary: This is a clear and relevant response that demonstrates sound understanding of the text and the statement. The candidate identifies appropriate methods (supernatural elements, temperature, rhetorical questions, first-person narration) and makes clear links to effects on the reader. Textual detail is relevant and supports points made. However, the response remains in Level 3 rather than achieving Level 4 because the evaluation, while clear, is not sufficiently developed or critical. Points are made and supported but not explored in depth—for example, the observation about mirrors being "creepy in horror stories" is somewhat generic rather than analysing the specific effect in this text. The candidate agrees with the statement without offering any qualification or counter-argument, and some comments rely on narrative summary rather than evaluation. The response is coherent and well-structured, demonstrating secure understanding at a solid pass level.

Grade 3 (near miss) answer

I agree with this statement because the writer makes it quite scary and Maya can't leave.

The writer creates dread by making scary things happen. The letters are to dead people which is weird and scary. It says the letters have names like "Edward Hartley, d. 1953" and the "d." means they're dead. This would make Maya feel scared because her grandmother was writing to dead people. Also one of the people died after the grandmother died which doesn't make sense, so this is scary because it's impossible. The writer says "To the dead" which is short and makes it more dramatic.

The room is also very cold. It says "it was cold now" and "impossibly cold" which means very cold. Maya can see her breath because it's so cold. This makes it scary like a ghost story because ghosts make places cold. There is also something in the mirror which might be a ghost. The writer describes it as "a shape" so we don't know what it is which makes it mysterious and scary.

Maya can't escape because she stays in the room even though she's scared. She thinks she should leave but then she doesn't. At the end she opens the letter which shows she's curious about what's inside. I think she's trapped by wanting to know what the letter says. The text says "I should leave" which shows she knows she should go but she doesn't go, she stays and opens the letter instead.

The writer uses first person which means Maya is telling the story. This makes us feel what she feels and we are trapped with her in the room. We have to keep reading to find out what happens next.

The clock is also important. It says it's stopped at 3:47 which is when the grandmother died. This is a coincidence but a creepy one. Then later the clock starts ticking even though it was stopped. This is impossible and supernatural which is scary. The writer uses the clock to show time which is important in the story.

There is also a description of the room at the start. It talks about the hallway and the mirror and photographs. The narrator sees her "pale face" in the mirror which shows she looks scared. The room called the morning room has curtains that are "the colour of old blood" which is a red colour but the writer makes it sound scary by saying blood.

Overall I agree that the writer creates dread and makes Maya unable to escape. The supernatural things like the letters and the clock and the cold are scary and Maya stays even though she should leave because she wants to know what's in the letter.

Mark: 7/20

Examiner commentary: This response demonstrates some understanding of the text and makes some relevant points about the creation of dread and entrapment, placing it in Level 2. However, there are significant limitations that prevent it reaching Level 3. The candidate identifies some appropriate features (letters to dead people, cold, mirror, clock) but the comments on effect remain quite simple and underdeveloped. There is considerable reliance on narrative summary ("There is also a description of the room at the start") rather than evaluation. Some interpretations are too literal—for example, explaining that "d." means dead, or that "impossibly cold" means "very cold"—which suggests the candidate is not yet confident in analysing language for effect. The point about first-person narration is valid but very briefly made. The response would be strengthened by more specific quotation and deeper exploration of how the writer's choices create effects. To reach Level 3, this candidate needs to move beyond identifying what happens to analysing how the writer makes it effective, with more detailed reference to specific words, phrases and techniques.

Question 5 (Descriptive task) — Sample Answers

Grade 9 (top of Higher) answer

The Last Train

The platform stretches into nothing. That's the first thing that strikes you—not the cold, not the lateness of the hour, but the sheer, aching emptiness of it, as if someone has taken an eraser to the world beyond the final pool of light and left only suggestion, only absence. Yellow lamps hang at intervals like dying stars, each one casting its uncertain glow onto the wet concrete below, and between them the darkness gathers thick and purposeful, refusing to be dispelled.

I stand at the platform's edge, suitcase handle slick with rain and my palm's anxiety. The red line—the one they tell you never to cross—runs along the concrete lip, faded in places to pink, to suggestion, to nothing at all. Beyond it, the tracks gleam dully, twin lines of silver that curve away into the fog, into the throat of the city, into whatever comes next. Rails have always seemed threatening to me, somehow: all that potential energy, all that momentum implied in their rigid parallel lines. Touch them at the wrong moment and you'd know electricity like certainty, like revelation, like nothing at all ever again.

Above, the station roof is a cavern of iron and glass, Victorian perhaps, or Edwardian—I've never been good with architecture's eras. But it feels old, weighted with time and departures, with a century of goodbyes conducted under its vaulted span. Pigeons roost somewhere in the rafters, invisible but present, their occasional fluttering like whispered warnings or distant applause. During the day this place must bustle with commuters, with the mundane urgency of people who have places to be. But now, at this hour when night tips toward morning without ever quite committing, the station has been returned to itself: vast, echoing, indifferent to human need.

The departure board clicks and whirs, updating itself with mechanical precision. DELAYED. DELAYED. DELAYED. A litany of disappointments. I watch the letters flip and fall like cards in a magician's hands, black on yellow, definitive and yet somehow uncertain. How long is delayed? Five minutes? Fifty? Forever? The board offers no specifics, only its blunt denial of arrival.

Water sheens everything. Rain has passed through—or is passing through still, hard to tell—and left its mark on every surface. The platform reflects the lights, doubling them, so that I seem to stand between two worlds: the solid one above and the liquid one below, and I'm uncertain which is real. My reflection stares up at me from the wet ground, distorted and dark-eyed, looking more tired than I feel, which is saying something. When did I become this person, I wonder? This woman alone on a platform at God-knows-what-hour, waiting for a train that may not come?

In the distance—so far away it might be another world entirely—the city glows a sick orange against the belly of the clouds. Light pollution, they call it, as if illumination could ever be contamination. But perhaps it is. Perhaps we're not meant to push back the dark so thoroughly, to banish mystery so completely. Out here, at the city's edge, the dark pushes back. It pools in doorways, gathers under benches, lurks at the platform's far end where the lights give up their vigil. And the fog—the fog is its ambassador, its emissary, creeping along the tracks like something living, something purposeful.

Silence, too, has texture here. It's not absence but presence—a thick, muffling quality that makes my breathing seem too loud, my heartbeat an intrusion. Somewhere behind me a vending machine hums its monotonous note, the only thing approximating company. I could turn around, walk back through the ticket hall, call a taxi, give up this vigil. But I don't. I remain, as if held by invisible threads, by inertia, by the stubborn human conviction that waiting must eventually be rewarded.

The rails begin to sing—a thin, high note that might be wind or might be something else, something approaching. I lean forward fractionally, peering into the fog-shrouded distance, searching for the lights that would herald arrival. But there's nothing. Only the song of the rails, rising and falling, and the fog, and the dark, and the patience required of those who wait for trains that may never arrive.

Marks: Content and Organisation: 24/24 | Technical Accuracy: 16/16 | Total: 40/40

Examiner commentary: This is a compelling and sophisticated piece of descriptive writing that demonstrates extensive vocabulary and sustained crafting of linguistic devices throughout. The writing is ambitious and assured, with a strong authorial voice. The candidate uses a wide range of sentence forms for effect (note the single-sentence paragraph "DELAYED. DELAYED. DELAYED" and the varied syntax elsewhere). Vocabulary is extensive and precise ("emissary," "litany," "vigil") and literary devices are skilfully deployed—metaphor ("dying stars," "throat of the city"), personification (darkness "gathers thick and purposeful"), sensory imagery throughout. The structural features are varied and effective: the piece moves from wide establishing description to close personal observation to philosophical reflection, creating layers of meaning. Paragraphs are fluently linked and the writing maintains its reflective, melancholic tone consistently. Technical accuracy is secure throughout, with sophisticated punctuation (colons, semi-colons, dashes) used accurately to create effect. This is genuinely accomplished writing that would achieve full marks in both assessment objectives.

Grade 6 (solid pass) answer

The Last Train

The platform was long and empty, stretching far into the distance where it disappeared into fog. I stood alone, waiting for the train, with my suitcase beside me and my coat pulled tight against the cold evening air.

Above me, old-fashioned lamps hung from the station roof, casting yellow circles of light onto the wet platform below. The pools of light looked warm, but the darkness between them was thick and unwelcoming. Everything was wet from recent rain, and the platform gleamed like a mirror, reflecting the lights and making everything look doubled and strange.

I moved closer to the edge of the platform, being careful not to cross the red line. Looking down the tracks, I could see the two rails curving away into the mist, shining dully in the lamplight. They looked like they went on forever, disappearing into nothing. The fog was so thick down there that I couldn't see where the tracks ended. It was like looking into another world, mysterious and unknown.

The station was eerily quiet. During the day it must be busy with commuters rushing to catch their trains, but now it was completely silent except for the occasional flutter of pigeons in the roof above. The silence made me feel very alone and small in this huge, empty space. I checked my watch—11:47pm. The last train should have been here ten minutes ago.

The departure board flickered and changed, the letters clicking over mechanically. DELAYED, it said. My heart sank with disappointment. How long would I have to wait? There was no-one to ask, no station attendant, nobody else waiting. Just me and the empty platform and the fog rolling in from the tracks.

Everything felt unreal in the yellow lamplight. Shadows stretched long and dark across the platform, and the wet ground made everything look distorted. When I looked down, I could see my reflection in the water on the ground, a dark shape that didn't quite look like me. It made me feel strange, like I wasn't quite sure who I was anymore or what I was doing here.

In the far distance, I could see the orange glow of the city against the night sky. It looked far away and unwelcoming, not like home at all. Out here on the edge of everything, the darkness felt stronger, more powerful. The fog crept along the tracks like something alive, swirling and shifting, hiding whatever might be approaching.

I pulled my coat tighter and stamped my feet to keep warm. The cold was seeping through my shoes and into my bones. How much longer would I have to wait? I thought about calling a taxi and giving up, but something made me stay. Perhaps it was stubbornness, or perhaps I just couldn't face the effort of leaving. So I stood there, waiting, watching the fog and the empty tracks, hoping that eventually my patience would be rewarded and the train would come.

Time seemed to move slowly here. Each minute felt like an hour. The silence pressed in on me, broken only by the distant hum of a vending machine somewhere behind me. I was tired, cold, and beginning to wonder if the train would ever arrive.

Then, in the distance, I thought I heard something—a faint sound that might have been the rails humming. I peered into the fog, searching for lights, for any sign of the approaching train. But there was nothing there. Just the fog, the darkness, and the endless waiting.

Marks: Content and Organisation: 17/24 | Technical Accuracy: 11/16 | Total: 28/40

Examiner commentary: This is a clear and generally effective piece of descriptive writing that achieves a secure Level 3 for Content and Organisation and Level 3 for Technical Accuracy. The candidate creates a consistent atmosphere and uses some varied vocabulary ("eerily," "distorted," "unwelcoming"). There is evidence of conscious crafting, particularly in descriptions like "pools of light" and "the fog crept along the tracks like something alive." The piece is structured logically, moving from general description to personal reflection. However, it lacks the ambition and sophistication of higher-level responses. Vocabulary, while appropriate, is not particularly extensive ("very alone," "made me feel strange" are rather simple). Sentence structures show some variety but are generally straightforward. Some linguistic devices are attempted (simile: "like a mirror," "like something alive") but these are quite conventional. Technical accuracy is mostly secure with some errors ("no-one" should be "no one"; comma splice in paragraph 5). The writing communicates clearly and engages the reader, achieving a solid pass, but would need greater ambition in vocabulary, more sophisticated structure, and more original imagery to reach the highest levels.

Grade 3 (near miss) answer

The Last Train

I was standing on the platform waiting for the train to come. It was nighttime and quite late, maybe about midnight or something. The platform was very long and empty with no other people there. I was on my own which made me feel a bit scared.

There were lights on the platform, yellow ones that lit up the ground. The ground was wet because it had been raining. In between the lights it was dark and you couldn't see properly. I had my suitcase with me and I was waiting for the train to take me home, or maybe to take me away somewhere new, I'm not sure.

I looked down at the tracks. They were shiny and metallic looking. They went off into the distance and there was fog so you couldn't see very far. The fog was quite thick and grey. It made everything look mysterious and a bit creepy. I wondered when the train would come because I had been waiting for a while now.

The station was very quiet. There were no sounds except sometimes birds moving around in the roof. It made me feel lonely because there was nobody else there. The station was old fashioned with a big roof made of glass and metal. In the daytime it would probably be busy but now it was empty.

I checked the departure board to see when my train was coming. It said DELAYED on it which was annoying. I didn't know how long delayed meant. It could be five minutes or it could be hours. There was nobody working at the station to ask so I just had to wait and hope the train would come soon.

Everything looked wet and shiny from the rain. I could see reflections in the puddles on the ground. My reflection looked dark and tired. I felt tired too because it was late and I had been travelling all day.

The city was in the distance. You could see orange lights from all the buildings and street lights. It looked quite far away. The fog was coming from that direction, rolling along the train tracks towards me. It looked a bit spooky.

I was getting cold standing there. The wind was blowing and it was making me shiver. I pulled my coat around me to try and keep warm. I thought about leaving and getting a taxi instead but I had already paid for my ticket so I decided to stay and wait.

I kept looking down the tracks to see if I could see the train coming but there was nothing there. Just fog and darkness. I hoped it would come soon because I was tired and cold and wanted to go home. The waiting seemed to go on forever.

Standing there on the empty platform in the dark with the fog, I felt very small and alone. I just wanted my train to arrive so I could get on it and go.

Marks: Content and Organisation: 9/24 | Technical Accuracy: 6/16 | Total: 15/40

Examiner commentary: This response demonstrates some ability to write descriptively but remains in Level 2 for both assessment objectives. The candidate attempts to create atmosphere and includes some appropriate descriptive details (yellow lights, wet ground, fog, empty platform). However, the vocabulary is simple and often repetitive ("very," "quite," "a bit"), and there is limited use of linguistic devices. The attempt at simile or metaphor is absent, and descriptions remain at surface level ("The fog was quite thick and grey"). Sentences are mostly simple or compound with little variety: "I was standing... It was nighttime... The platform was very long..." The piece is structured in paragraphs but these are not always well-linked, and the narrative viewpoint occasionally intrudes awkwardly ("waiting for the train to take me home, or maybe to take me away somewhere new, I'm not sure"). Technical accuracy shows some control but with consistent errors: missing apostrophes ("nighttime" should be "night-time"), comma splicing, and some agreement issues. The piece communicates the basic scenario but lacks the development, vocabulary range, and technical control needed for a secure pass. To improve, this candidate should focus on: more ambitious vocabulary, varied sentence structures, incorporating imagery and description beyond the literal, and more secure punctuation.