B2 First Mock Exam

A library of useful things

A (0) ____ group of neighbours has opened a library that lends tools rather than books. The idea began when organiser Ella Shaw (1) ____ out that most households used their electric drills for only a few minutes each year. Instead of buying equipment, members now pay a modest annual (2) ____ and borrow whatever they need. The project has also (3) ____ interest among residents who have little experience of practical work.

Before an item leaves the building, a volunteer checks that it is in working (4) ____. Borrowers receive a short explanation, but they must take (5) ____ for using it safely. Ella had expected price to be the main attraction. In fact, people often mention the advice they receive when choosing a tool. This has (6) ____ a real difference to their confidence. Nobody is under (7) ____ to become an expert, and beginners can return with questions. The library is now looking for larger premises, although Ella is determined not to lose (8) ____ of its original purpose: helping neighbours solve everyday problems together.

Taking the long way

I used (0) ____ drive to work, even though the office was fairly close. One morning, a flat tyre forced me to walk. The journey was not as tiring (9) ____ I had expected, and I arrived in a better mood. Since then, I have been going (10) ____ foot whenever possible.

At first, I worried about being late. There was no point (11) ____ taking a pleasant route if I had to run the final kilometre. I therefore started leaving home ten minutes earlier. I soon became familiar (12) ____ streets I had previously ignored. The more often I walked, the (13) ____ time I spent sitting in traffic — eventually, it fell to zero.

My colleagues wanted to know (14) ____ had made me change my routine, so I told them about the tyre. Two now join me. We look forward (15) ____ our conversations before work, and neither of them wants to return to driving. It is such a simple change (16) ____ I wonder why I waited so long.

A quieter lunch break

For many office workers, lunch is the only period of physical (0) ____ in an otherwise seated day. Yet finding somewhere peaceful can be difficult. A local design team investigated the (17) ____ of the outdoor spaces around several offices. They found that the (18) ____ of heavy traffic made some attractive gardens unpleasant to use.

Their first proposal was (19) ____: no one could afford its enormous cost. Instead, they suggested moving benches behind existing walls. This relatively (20) ____ solution cost very little and required no new construction. The team also improved the (21) ____ of several paths by adding ramps, so wheelchair users could reach every table.

After the changes, workers responded (22) ____ to a survey about the gardens. Many praised the chance to have an (23) ____ conversation with colleagues away from their desks, without an agenda or a manager leading it. The designers believe that the project's (24) ____ depends less on expensive materials than on listening carefully to the people who use a place.

Learning to notice

When I told friends I was spending six Saturdays at a local photography workshop, they assumed I wanted better pictures for my travel blog. I did not have one. What interested me was whether a camera might make familiar streets feel less familiar. I had begun moving through my neighbourhood as if it were a corridor: somewhere to get through, not somewhere to be. A colleague's photographs of ordinary shop windows had suggested that I was missing more than I realised. Buying a better camera seemed a less useful first step than finding out how she had learned to look.

Our tutor, Martin, asked us to leave our cameras in our bags during the first session. We walked around a market and wrote down details that attracted our attention. I noticed that the flower seller arranged damaged flowers beside perfect ones rather than hiding them. Another student described the pattern of wheels beneath the vegetable stalls. We spent a surprisingly long time discussing things that no one had photographed. At first I wondered whether Martin was avoiding technical instruction because the group had such different cameras. Later, I understood that he was trying to separate noticing a subject from immediately collecting an image of it.

During the following week, I took a photograph of a woman waiting outside a closed café. The pale morning light looked beautiful, and I was pleased with the result. Martin asked what I knew about her. Nothing, I admitted, except that she had agreed to be photographed. He did not suggest that every photograph needed a complete biography. His concern was that I had described her as lonely in my caption simply because she was alone. She might have been enjoying a quiet moment before meeting a crowd of friends. I kept the picture but rewrote the caption to describe what could actually be seen.

By the third session, our group had developed a comfortable routine. We compared pictures without ranking them, and Martin asked questions before offering suggestions. I initially found this frustrating; I wanted him to identify the best image and explain how to repeat it. Yet when he did finally point out a technical problem in one of my photographs, I could see it myself. The questions had given me a way of judging my work rather than a list of instructions to obey. I was becoming less dependent on his approval, although I still welcomed his advice.

The most demanding assignment was to photograph one small square every day. I expected to exhaust its possibilities in an afternoon. Instead, changes in light and human activity kept altering it. What bored me was not the square but my first, predictable way of photographing it. After several days, I stopped standing at the same corner. I began waiting for the place to offer something instead of forcing it into a picture I had already imagined. Some evenings produced no useful photographs at all, but they rarely felt wasted.

For our final display, Martin offered to arrange the photographs himself. We refused, politely. Choosing which images belonged together had become part of what we wanted to learn. Our display was less tidy than his would probably have been, and two pictures were printed slightly too dark. Visitors nevertheless stayed to discuss them. Several recognised places they passed daily but had never really examined. That response mattered more to me than praise for the photographs themselves.

I still use the same inexpensive camera. I also put it away more often. If a scene becomes interesting only because I think it will impress someone online, I sometimes choose not to photograph it. The workshop has not turned every walk into an artistic experience. It has made me more willing to stop, more careful about the stories I attach to strangers, and less embarrassed to return to the same place without knowing exactly what I am looking for.

A room to make mistakes

The first time I entered the community repair room, I carried a desk lamp that had stopped working. I imagined handing it to an expert and collecting it later, much as I would leave a coat at a dry cleaner's. The person at the door had other ideas. (37) ____ I was going to stay beside the volunteer throughout the repair and help wherever it was safe to do so. This was a workshop, she explained, not a free repair shop.

That distinction is central to the project. Its organisers want people to understand objects well enough to look after them. An electrician named Karim examined my lamp while I described what had happened. Before opening it, he disconnected it and explained why electrical work required special precautions. (38) ____ Instead, I made notes and located the replacement switch in a catalogue while he tested the wiring. Participating did not mean being allowed to attempt every task.

At the next table, a teenager was struggling to sew a loose handle back onto a bag. Her first stitches came undone, and she looked ready to abandon the job. The volunteer beside her did not take over. (39) ____ After watching this brief demonstration, the teenager tried again with a much shorter length of thread. She worked slowly, but the final row of stitches held. Her smile seemed to be about more than saving a bag.

During a break, the coordinator showed me the room's records. I expected a list of successful repairs, perhaps with an impressive estimate of the money saved. There was such a list, but another folder was equally important. (40) ____ One entry described a radio that nobody had managed to fix. It explained which tests had been attempted and why the owner had decided against buying an expensive part. A future visitor with the same model might avoid repeating those tests.

The room does not accept every object. Last month, visitors brought in more bicycles than the volunteers could safely accommodate. Leaving them in the entrance made it difficult to move equipment, and people had to step outside while others passed. (41) ____ Under the new system, bicycle owners book a place in advance, while smaller items can still be brought without an appointment. The organisers would rather deal with fewer objects properly than create a queue that puts everyone under pressure.

My lamp was working again by the end of the afternoon. I could not honestly say that I had repaired it myself, but I understood the fault and knew what to do if it returned. On my next visit, I brought nothing broken. I offered to help greet visitors and record their questions. (42) ____ Explaining that difference to newcomers felt like useful work, and it left the trained volunteers more time to concentrate on tasks that genuinely required their expertise. The room had given me a way to contribute without pretending to have skills I did not possess.

Changing the way we work

A — Lena, illustrator

I used to imagine a shared workspace as a noisy room where strangers interrupted each other. My own kitchen table seemed a safer option, but by midwinter I was tired of eating lunch beside unfinished drawings. A friend persuaded me to try a place above a bakery. I expected to tolerate it for a week; within two days, I had asked about a permanent desk. People were friendly without expecting constant conversation. The monthly cost was higher than working at home, of course, but it included space to store materials, which my flat badly lacked. I particularly like the long table where we spread out work and offer comments. I never ask the others to redesign a picture for me. Their questions often reveal something I had stopped seeing, though, and two recent illustrations improved considerably after those conversations. I protect the first hour of each morning for concentrated work and join people later. For now, this combination suits me far better than either complete silence or endless company.

B — Oliver, translator

When our local shared office opened, I was one of its first members. It looked ideal: excellent light, reliable internet and a short walk from home. After three months, however, I realised I was choosing tasks according to what the room allowed. Phone conversations were not particularly loud, but even a few words could break my concentration when I was comparing difficult sentences. Noise-cancelling headphones helped less than I had hoped. I returned to my spare room and have not regretted it. What I did miss was the clear end to the day that leaving an office provides. I now put my work laptop in a cupboard at six, even if I plan to use my personal computer later. The small act makes the evening feel separate. I still meet former colleagues for lunch occasionally, but I do not confuse enjoying their company with needing to work alongside them. My routine would probably bore someone who relies on discussion to develop ideas; for me, it removes decisions that used to waste energy.

C — Priya, project coordinator

Our organisation lets us choose where to work on most days. I spend Mondays and Tuesdays at home, then use the main office for the rest of the week. That arrangement was excellent for finishing reports, but I eventually noticed a problem: junior colleagues were waiting several days to ask me simple questions because they thought my home days meant I was unavailable. I had assumed they would send a message whenever they needed help. We discussed it and introduced a short online drop-in period every morning. Nobody has to attend, and it is not another meeting with a fixed agenda. It simply makes permission to interrupt explicit. I also choose my office days around occasions when new staff need support, rather than treating the calendar as unchangeable. I would not say that this system saves our organisation money; we still maintain the same building. Its value is that focused work and informal help no longer have to compete throughout the entire day.

D — Mateo, furniture designer

I moved into a workshop on the edge of town because the rent was much lower than in the centre. I knew the journey would be longer, but the difference in cost allowed me to buy a machine I had previously hired. The space is not as comfortable as my old studio: in winter I need several layers until the heaters have warmed it. An unexpected pleasure has been the bus journey. There is little reliable mobile reception along part of the route, so I cannot deal with messages efficiently. At first that annoyed me; now I keep a small sketchbook in my bag and use the time to explore shapes without opening design software. Several promising ideas have begun there. I am not certain I will stay in the workshop indefinitely, especially if transport becomes less frequent. For the moment, though, the financial advantage and that protected thinking time make the inconvenience worthwhile.