Trisha dreamed of being a Playboy Bunny since the days she still had buck-teeth and fried egg boobs. She blu-tacked page threes above her bed-head and had me snap topless Polaroids till they littered the floor. She told me to imagine she had 36DDs and peroxide blonde hair. I used to wish like hell that she wasn't my cousin. When she was fifteen Trisha started putting out for the boys in the Kwik-Save car park for a tenner a time. She said she was an entrepreneur, not a prostitute. She started going steady with a kid called Keith. He was a fryer in the fish and chip shop. He had a future and a Ford Cortina. She got a job waitressing and she worked all the hours she could. Keith couldn't handle me and Trisha being as close as we were. Especially the time he caught Trisha bending over me in nothing but a frilly market stall thong while I worked the angles best I could to get a dangle-shot. Next night he took her in the car park woods and doped her up to the eyeballs. He took out a bottle of India ink and told her he would etch the love-heart she'd always wanted. Instead, he safety-pinned the word 'inbred' into her arse. Trisha's step-dad tracked the spits of blood and found her sobbing in the bathroom of their long-stay static. It didn't take him long to slap out the truth. He went straight round to Keith's place with a crow-bar and did enough damage to make sure he'd need more than laser treatment to put things right. Keith wasn't rolling in spare change so Trisha's step-dad took the Cortina as payment in lieu of her getting herself fixed up. Trisha got me to stash the Cortina up the lane at the back of Boyes' farm. Weekend nights, I drove her out to the dual carriageway truck-stop where she found a faster way to make her fortune in the fogged-up cabs. what does the author think of keith? Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. he is invalid now B. he is a scum C. not enough information D. hes probably dead by now
B

(Question)
For those of us who struggle with thoughts about our size and shape, sometimes we don't like our bodies and our behaviour very much. It seems like an impossible task to transform our self loathing into self-love, but it is possible with these five simple steps. I started to write some examples of the self loathing dialogue I occasionally have in my head and I found I couldn't do it. It felt as wrong as criticising my closest friend. I guess it goes to prove that the shift from loathing to love is not always huge and momentous, but subtle and gradual. When I look in the mirror and see a part of my body I don't like, I run through these five steps in my head. This following example is the kind of internal conversation I might have about my belly. 1. POSITIVE INTENT (THE GIFT) Recognise the gift your body is giving you. My belly fat is protecting and cushioning my intestines and reproductive system. By having a higher body fat percentage my hormones are functioning as they should, enabling me to have a normal transition through perimenopause. I fit my skin and the wrinkly empty skin folds are gone. 2. FORGIVENESS Acknowledge the way you have treated your body in the past. I am sorry that I have been either starving you or stuffing you with toxic food and that I have accused you of betraying me. I now realise that my body is a reflection of my thoughts and beliefs so I was hating myself. Please forgive me for treating you so badly. 3. GRATITUDE Notice the miracles your body performs even though you have abused it. I am so thankful that even though I have treated you so badly you are still healthy and functioning. I am amazed at your ability to heal a lifetime of digestive and hormonal issues within a short amount of time. Thank you for your forgiveness and that's it's not too late to take great care of you. Who is the narrator's closest friend? Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. His neighbor B. His cousin C. His boss D. not enough information
(Answer)
D

Ques: Though hooded and cloaked, Nicolette trembled. The chill of the January afternoon pierced her through, but it was fear, more than the cold, that made her limbs shake. Having just crossed over to the Left Bank, she glanced back over her shoulder and saw the towers and spires of the royal palace across the Seine. She felt as if hidden eyes there were watching her. Could anyone on the palace wall have seen her walk over the Petit-Pont? Not Amalric. He was still in the south, the King having just appointed him seneschal for Beziers and the surrounding country. But he had so many agents in Paris and allies at court. Except for Agnes, all the servants in the Gobignon town house were loyal to him. His aunt, Queen Blanche, was forever praising him to all who would listen. If Nicolette were involved in scandal, the White Queen would be furious, and would see to it that word reached Amalric. And if indeed he found out about her meeting the troubadour? Just a message, a song, let alone a meeting like this one, could mean death for her and Orlando. I should turn around right now, cross this bridge, and run back to the palace. The streets of the Latin Quarter were crawling with ruffians and criminals - it was insane for her to be walking here alone after sunset. The sight of the small knife she carried under her cloak might deter an attacker, but then she would be discovered. If I screamed for help, the whole palace would find out. Blanche would demand to know why I was here. No, she thought, her blood turning to ice, she would know why. But those eyes of his? to look into them again, was that not worth any risk? She stood, vacillating, in the shadows by a wooden house that overhung the Rue Saint-Jacques. I must see Orlando, she thought. Over a year now, and I have not been able to forget him. She longed just to be alone with him and have him take her in his arms. What is Nicolette probably feeling? Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. Tired B. not enough information C. Anxious D. Overjoyed
Ans:
C