A 14-year-old girl called Mika Willow lived in a huge dreary city filled with nothing but the sound of cars, the smell of fuel and the smoke they emitted. People plodded on in the rain, their dull umbrellas filling the pavements and you could hear them chatting, even from 10 storeys high.



She hated it. All she wanted was to live where she could see the stars and hear animals all around, never have to hear cars or people. She would daydream in high school about a perfect farmyard life, like inside of her storybooks. Her books said that the farmyard was filled with egg-laying chickens, milking cows, woolly sheep and muddy pigs, sometimes even great steeds in stables, and yet she never would have thought that milk came from cows! And she was 14!



Her straight blonde hair fell down beside her freckled face, her eyes staring down at the sad metal benches that hardly anybody sat on. She sighed, mumbling to herself about the country for quite a while.
’Mika. Stop leaning over the edge of the window. You could fall and hurt yourself.’ Her mum was standing behind her, arms full of dry cloths and towels.
’But I’m daydreaming. No one ever seems to daydream in the city.’ Mika said, still not moving.

‘That’s because these people have somewhere to be. And so do you, young lady. We’re going to Greenwall Park to go for a walk.’
’Why can’t we go to a farm and walk there instead? The parks are so boring.’
’Actually, your father and I find it such a pleasant walk indeed. You can feed the ducks, or meet some of the dogs, or climb the trees…’
’But a farm would be so much better.’
’It’s not your choice. Come on, stop moaning and get your shoes on. If you behave yourself and show some respect, I’ll buy you a cookie!’
’I don’t want a cookie! Don’t bribe me to do what you want with cookies any more! I’m 14 mum, yet you treat me like I’m 5!’ Mika was so annoyed with her mum she stormed off to her room.

Four hours later, her mother found her curled up in bed, reading one of her farmyard books called ‘Farm Life for City Folks’. She didn’t like the title but the pictures and words were all she cared about.
’Mika, we’re having dinner. And before you ask, it’s steak pie, so no, don’t bring it into your room.’


‘Ooh! Steak’s my favourite!’ She immediately went along the corridor and through into the kitchen, grabbing a chair and sitting down.



Mika’s mum had cooked a juicy, medium-rare steak and added gravy to it, then chopped it up with her incredibly sharp kitchen knife and baked a crisp golden pastry with some buttered peas. As soon as she walked through the corridor and into the kitchen, Mika took her plate and placed it on the table, cutting through the pastry into the meat.
’Mm… this is delicious…’ Mika paused. ‘But it’s all shop bought again, let me guess.’


‘No. I made the pastry and the gravy.’ Her mum sat down and started to eat. ‘But when we went on the walk, your father and I decided we’re going on holiday sometime next week… for however long you want.’
’Where to mum?’ Mika had stopped eating her pie, leaving it to cool down. She turned herself to her mum.
’Oh, you’ll love it… so our cousins have let us stay at their farm for as long as you want.’ Her mum paused to cut and eat some pastry.
’YES! Thank you so much!’
’No problem, darling. So we were thinking… how about we stay for… a month?’ Mika’s mum was eating some steak, then finished her pie and started the peas.
’THAT’S AWESOME!’ Mika was over the moon.

After their dinner, Mika, her mum were ready… to visit a farm.