Oosh. It's nice seeing there's still interest aha. Ahaha. Guess who had like a huge coughing fit in class today? –raises hand- I'm way not in to Asthma attacks. Grrr. –shakes fist at her lungs-. I'm freezing and have an inhaler near me 24/7 aha. Damn illness! Here's the next chapter. Reviews verr welcome, or do I really need to say that still?

Chapter Fifteen

Okay, now everyone knows Harry Judd is my dad.

And I mean everyone.

Well, everyone who watched BBC One today at 9 O'clock.

Hot gossip apparently.

Got invited to some pano-

Urmm..

Pano-whatsamathingy show.

About finding lost relatives.

Dad thought it was a good idea to tell the world. I thought he didn't want people knowing. That was not the case at all. No, indeed.

It went out on the air tonight.

Holy crap, I'm so never going to watch that.

I don't know how McFly can watch themselves on TV. It would be so cringe worthy. I mean, Danny loves watching stuff back, he likes to be able to check himself out from behind without turning around. But, other than that... Come on.. I don't think so!

Nope, never in a million years will I watch that.

"Guess what I recorded." Mum sang as me and Dad walked in through the door. Dad went to speak up before mum sharply interrupted. "No, Harry, I wouldn't dare show that Brenna.."

Oh, wonderful..

"What then?" He asked puzzled.

"My daughter's first television appearance." She beamed. Oh Dear Sweet Mother Of Jesus. "We can watch it now."

I groaned and dad just grinned, giving me a small sideways hug.

"Let her have her moment." he spoke. "And anyway, you're going to have to get used to the limelight.."

"How am I?" I asked. He walked ahead of me in to the living room. "How am I?" I repeated. He simply laughed and shook his head, sitting down as mum made sure the TV was on the right setting.

I've never been so embarrassed in my life.

My nose looks huge on that show.

And wayyyy too much foundation.

How orange did they want me to look?

Stupid BBC.

No wonder Kat Slater was so bright.

And that David Dickingson.

And all the time I thought they used the bottle too much.

"Harry, did you have any idea that Brenna, your daughter existed?" I watched the interviewer ask.

Hello, you didn't have to remind him his daughter was called Brenna.

Honestly, they must think we're so simple.

I was quite intrigued actually by this. I'd not heard any of what Dad had said in his interview. I'd done mine and that was it.

Oosh.

Rather interesting now.

"To be honest, no." He said. "I was told that my girlfriend had miscarriaged, I didn't have a daughter. Still felt connected some how. She existed in here somewhere." He tapped his chest momentarily.

"So, how did you go about finding out who your Dad was?" Oh god, it's me. They've cut to my interview. Damn them!

"Mum had always told me who my dad was. My gran ruled over us though. But, you come to a point in your life, this point is probably different for everyone, but when you reach it, you realise that if there's something missing you have to find it. I always told myself from day one that even if he didn't want to know me at least he would know I was there." Was my answer.

I sound so common on TV.

Didn't think my accent was that bad.

Compared to dad I sound like some nineteenth century house maid and he's my master who lives 'up in big 'ouse. Just up 'an to yer first left, Sir. Don't mind Dougeh, 'e's my lover from the land befo' time.'

Okay, maybe not.

I smiled feeling mum and dad both put their arms around me.

This is what I've waited my whole life for.