The Test

by Mark Haysom

Genres: General Fiction

Synopsis

For the 'back to school' crowd, this is a touching and poignant short story about triumph over adversity in regards to the 'system', and a celebration of first love. The Test is perfect tie-in to some of the themes explored in Mark Haysom's new novel, Imagine, available now in ebook and publishing in print in December 2015. Visit Mark's website at: http://mark-haysom.co.uk/ to read an extract from the opening of Imagine and to read about Mark's other work, including Love, Love Me Do which is available now in print and ebook. Praise for Love, Love Me Do : 'Haysom's skilful debut ... a highly readable novel with a warm heart' The Independent 'In just a word or two, Mark Haysom evokes the pain of a deserted parent or the fear of a little boy' We Love This Book ' Love, Love Me Do manages to be both funny and heart-breaking' Good Housekeeping

Release date: September 22, 2015

Publisher: Piatkus

Print pages: 42

Sample

At the end of the school day, they emerge like cannon fire: exploding through the school’s double doors with a running, tumbling, scuffling roar.

Teasing, laughing, pinching, shoving – eleven years old and set free – they burst chaotically across the wide tarmac of the sun-filled playground and out through the gates before the bell has stopped sounding and while the laggards are still clearing their desks.

On they run. Clattering their wooden rulers along the chain-link fence, they race ricocheting down School Lane: Tim Harden, Henry Phippard, Chris Bonfield, George Riggs, Tom Pushman, Lucy Kennison, Charlie Clark.

At the end of the lane, they are brought to an unwelcome and sudden halt by the forbidding hand of Mr Smead, the pinch-faced lollipop man; they fall quiet, stand obediently at the kerbside and wait.

An impatient minute passes: it feels like an hour.

But then the traffic clears and they are waved across and soon they are hopping zigzags through Ruskin Park; they are chasing, skipping, windmilling across the grass.

An hour passes: it feels like a minute.

They drop their satchels and wrestle; climb the steep shining slope of the playground slide; push the swings, higher, higher; turn cartwheels, scrape their bare knees, scuff their shoes. They link arms and sing: Top of the Pops, tunelessly, at the tops of their voices.

‘There she was just a-walkin’ down the street, singin’ “Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do”’

And they play the game they always play.

‘What’s the capital of Venezuela, Tom?’

‘Caracas,’ Tom says.

Tom Pushman knows everything. He comes top in every class, first in every test: he’s always reading – and what he reads, he remembers. They try to beat him every day.

‘What’s the name of the Prime Minister, Tom?’

‘Alec Douglas-Home,’ he says.

Usually, he’s to be found at the noisy thick of things – but today he’s fallen a little behind the rest. He’s dragging his feet unhappily; his head is bowed.

‘What’s the tallest mountain in the world, Tom?’

‘Everest,’ he mumbles.

‘How tall is it, Tom?’ Lucy says, skipping around him.

‘Twenty nine thousand feet,’ he says. Not looking at her.

‘What’s twelve times fourteen, Tom?’

‘One hundred and sixty eight,’ he says, without a pause. Not looking up.

‘Is it?’ Lucy says.

They all shrug; Charlie Clarke straightens her ponytail and glares. If Tom Pushman says it’s one hundred and sixty eight, it must be right.

When it’s time to leave, they make their chattering way slowly beyond the park to the tall detached houses and gravel drives of the Grove. One by one they peel away to their front doors, shouting their goodbyes.

‘See ya, Charlie. See ya, Professor.’

That’s what they call him.

‘See ya, Charlie. See ya, Brainbox.’

They call him that too.

Finally, it’s just the two of them left and they turn to walk through the last of the leafy avenues of the Grove, towards . . .