Zander's Daughter

By Kathryn Warner

Socially awkward Jamie Fields has been home-schooled most of her life. As the only daughter of rock star Zander, Jamie has led a sheltered life. Kept out of the public eye by her protective dad, twelve-year-old Jamie can’t wait to start school for the first time and, more importantly, have no-one know her parentage.

For Jamie, the publicity has always been the downside of her dad’s life. Many have referred to her as just Zander’s daughter, while trying to get an elusive photo of her. After Jamie had a bad experience with the press as a child, Zander has made sure he kept Jamie’s life private. While she relishes the anonymity, she feels isolated and suffocated.

 

With new friends to be made, school gives Jamie the freedom she’s desired for so long. Yet she soon finds that hiding a part of herself is not as easy as she hoped, especially when her new friends realise Zander is living in the area.

 

Will she keep her secret and her friends? Or will she lose both as she tries to find her own name from her father’s shadow?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Dec 10, 2021
• ISBN: 9781528994286

Kathryn Warner

Kathryn is a self-confessed reading addict, who turned to writing during the dark moments when you finish a good book series and don’t know what to do with life now you’ve finished it. A former Math’s teacher, Kathryn has since taken a creative writing course to progress her passion for written words. This is her first novel to be published.

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About the Author

Kathryn is a self-confessed reading addict, who turned to writing during the dark moments when you finish a good book series and don’t know what to do with life now you’ve finished it. A former Math’s teacher, Kathryn has since taken a creative writing course to progress her passion for written words. This is her first novel to be published.

Dedication

To my family, who help build and encourage my love

of books.

Copyright Information ©

Kathryn Warner 2021

The right of Kathryn Warner to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781528994279 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781528994286 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2021

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Prologue

Don’t get me wrong I love my dad but at times like this.

After once again being woken up at the crack of dawn to be dragged into work with Dad. I slipped into my usual position. Tucked away, almost blending into the background, not on anyone’s radar, just the way I liked it. Once positioned I unpacked my survival bag – yes, I have a survival bag, trust me after a few days in my life you’ll want to carry around a few basic’s. The permanent belongings were an emergency phone, emergency cash and card, I even had a torch and whistle in there. These were in there under Dads orders. For my current predicament I only needed my two faithful belongings. A blanket, because sometimes these places were cold and my hoody is not always enough to keep me warm, and secondly, my most prized possession, my e-reader. My ticket to a different life, fictional lives of somewhat normal teens. Okay, I’m only twelve so I’m not even a teen yet, but even though the characters have crazy stuff happen in their lives, they still get to go to school, they all have friends, and they have a permanent home.

Wow, how crazy is that, I’m envious of fictional characters when most people would love to be me. If only those people weren’t so delusional, they’d see the truth behind those thoughts.

You see my dad is a musician. Okay, maybe I’m downplaying it, he’s the lead guitarist in the world-famous band ‘Run Out’. As well as sing some of the songs, he’s also wrote a load of them, not to mention the one’s he’s written for other artists. To the world he is Zander, but to me he is Alexander Fields, Dad extraordinaire.

Today, ‘work’, involved a photoshoot for the band, nothing I hadn’t seen a thousand times before so slipping into my book was easy. The flashing lights and noise blend into the background when I pull my hood up. Encased in the shadow, I lose myself in someone else’s words. Picturing the lead characters life as I read, feeling the emotions they feel. A few times I check to make sure no-one is watching me as I mutter the lines under my breath. How embarrassing would it be if someone saw me? The papers would have a field day, ‘Zander’s elusive daughter talks to herself’, they’d love that. They’re already obsessed with trying to get a photo of me, something they haven’t been able to do in six years. Well that’s not strictly true there are photos just none of my face. I never leave home without a hoody on. First whiff of a pap and my hood goes up, there must be hundreds of photos of me hidden inside a hood on some photo room floor. Hahaha, serves them right.

A few hours in my hiding spot and I can see movement from the band. I peek over my e-reader, I’m in the middle of a chapter and really don’t want to stop now. Looks like I’ll be finishing this off later though, the band is all standing there, back in the clothes they came in, discussing something with the security team. This is never a good sign. Sighing, I bookmark my page and turn the devise off, once everything is packed safely away I get up to join the group. First things first though I need to stretch, I must have been sitting there longer than I realised, my legs have gone funny. With that done, now I head over to join the adults with a slightly more graceful walk than I could manage two minutes ago. I haven’t even got within touching distance when the problem becomes apparent.

Fans are blocking the entrance.

I slide up next to Dad and listen in on the conversation, shockingly it goes exactly the same way as it always does. Which means Dad’s only concern is getting me out safely. One of the security blokes suggests a back door, it’s vetoed as an idea for the band but what if just I use it. I let the plan form in my head as they continue to organise. Once I’ve got it all worked out I speak out.

Dad, what if I use the back door and sneak through the crowd, while you guys take the front door.

On your own? Not happening, he shuts me down.

Why not? I press, I can take the car keys and walk back to the car, that way you can take a couple of photos and sign a few autographs making that crazy lot happy. I give a quick pleading look to Charlie Holloway, the bands all-star drummer. Thankfully my favourite band uncle takes up my plea and jumps in before Dad start his protective parent stance.

Where is the car parked? Charlie asks. Dad and Charlie are the youngest members of the band being only a few months apart. The other two members Elliot – the singer – and Curtis – bass player – being a couple of years older. As such they’ve become like brothers. Charlie has his reddish-brown wavy hair a couple of inches long, giving him a messy with style look. Whereas Dad keeps his brown hair – a touch darker than my tone – short but full looking. Both working under the consensus that you keep the hair short and out of the eyes because performing on stage is hot and sweaty work.

A couple of streets over. If I head to the end of the road from the left side of the building and take a right, I then need to walk past two streets before taking another right onto the road where the car is parked under a tree. I give as much detail as I remember hoping to impress upon Dad that I know where I’m going. Charlie’s lips twitch, fighting off a smile.

Al, I know what you’re like but she’s a smart kid, she knows where she’s going, and this way she won’t get caught up in all of that. She can blend in with them and then slip away, Charlie addressed Dad. I stand quietly between the two of them barely coming up to their shoulders.

I don’t like this, Dad responded, the logic of the idea mulling through his head, I hold my breath not wanting to spook him into not letting me go.

You know none of us want anything to happen to Jam, but I think this is the safest option for her.

Minutes past while Dad thought it through, the intensity of his thoughts is evident by the agitated pacing and the purpling of the face.

Fine, let’s do this quickly before I change my mind. He huffed, Charlie secretly held his hand behind his back for a silent high five. I want you to walk straight to the car, no stopping, no talking to anyone, just straight to the car. You hear me. Then I want you to lock the car door until you see me okay. I quickly nod in agreement and hold my hand out for the car keys. I’m too giddy for words right now.

With my bag secured on my shoulders, the car keys now locked up in an inner pocket for safety, I followed one of the security guards to the backdoor. I didn’t talk to him on the way down the stairs, I didn’t know what to say. He opened the heavy door and peeked his head around the frame.

Are you sure you don’t want me to help you through that lot? he suddenly asked.

I’ll be okay, it would look suspicious if I had a guard. I’m a no-body after all, I reasoned, slightly touched that he was worried for me, someone he didn’t know, but mainly irked that he didn’t think I could protect myself. I was itching for more freedom, a little bit of time to show Dad that I’m a smart kid and should have more opportunities to get out on my own. This was my moment.

If you’re sure, you can see the crowd as soon as you get around this door. Walk towards them then head left, he says reluctantly.

Thanks, are you going back to help my dad get out? I ask. He nodded, a slight gleam of excitement sparkling in his eyes. He must really enjoy his job. Good luck, can you make sure he’s safe, please?

He’ll be fine, he smiled, and I stepped outside, you’re not a nobody, by the way, He says closing the door.

Yes I am, I muttered. Why didn’t people realise, just because my father is a some-body does not mean I am automatically. We’re not royalty. It’s not like I’m going to inherit his place in the band. I’m simply Jamie Fields. A twelve-year-old home-schooled kid, with no friends, no permanent address and no Mother to talk to. Dad has the rock star image down, me on the other hand should not be seen in public. My medium brown hair is shoulder length and other than brush it I don’t do anything with it. My fringe that I like resting against my eye brows has a bounce to it that causes it to look uneven. At just over five foot I suppose I’m average size for my age but that knowledge would require me to know other people my age.

You’re probably starting to realise why I read so much by this point.

The noise is ridiculous. The mainly female army in front of me is made up of late teens and older, quite a bit older. One woman is easily forties or higher, with a Run Out shirt on and is sporting a ludicrous sign, a sign that should not be seen by the child of a member of the band. I’m talking TV wouldn’t show that sign even after the watershed.

Tentatively, I approached the crowd. I felt like I was advancing towards a wild animal, granted some of them were acting more animalistic than was normal. Nobody seemed concerned that I’d just come out of the building, all attention was trained on the front door for the first sign of the band. Sticking close to the edge of the group I covertly made my way in the opposite direction to their scrutiny.

I thought I was doing well until a sudden shift made everything around me go dark and the noise level raise to dizzying highs. The bodies pressed around me tighter disorientating me. Finally, I was able to get my feet under me again and shoved against the tide for all I was worth. Catching a few elbows to the head, I didn’t care about being polite anymore and fought my way to sunlight. Using all my pent-up anger over these type of people always ruining my private life. I used that aggression until I was free. Staggering a few metres away from the mob, I bent over double to catch my breath. With my hands on my hips and my breathing returning to a somewhat normal rhythm, I stretched my neck to see what had changed.

Of course, I muttered, I should have realised as soon as the hyenas surged. The band had surfaced. Although in my defence they did take me by surprise and all thought from then until now was getting out safely. I could barely make out the band from here, there seemed to be a small bubble within the mass that usually meant a security guard wall around the band. That was not a nice place to be in, believe me I’ve been caught up in a few of them, Dad always tried to avoid me being in that situation but sometimes it was unavoidable.

With a deep breath, I turn away. Now was not the time to worry about Dad and the others. Not the time to think about the security guards putting their bodies up as a shield as rabid fans jumped them trying to get handsy with a member of the band.

I pounded the pavement following the route I told Dad I would. With each step, the noise level lowered. This stretch of road was completely sparse of other humans, it was almost eerie after the onslaught only around the corner. Fidgeting with the straps on my bag, I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder every few seconds. I wasn’t being followed, I was just being foolish, all those books I’d read were messing with my head. I’d finally got my freedom and I was slightly panicked. I suppose when most kids venture out for the first time on their own, they are going to meet friends, in an area they’ve grown up in. That would make it easier, actually knowing the streets you’re walking on. For the past seven years we’d moved around a lot, only renting places for a year at most. The past two years were even worse. The band had a big world tour, hotels and tour buses were home sweet home then. Skipping from country to country, time zones completely messed up. Yeah, it’s nice for the fans in different countries to see the band, but touring is a killer. I’ve got a worn-out passport and only memories of venues.

Now the tour is over we’re renting a place just outside of London but even that is only for a month.

In nine days’ time we were moving back to our home land, Wales. After seven years on the move Dad has finally bought a house in the city we were both born to, Cardiff. The band was taking a break after that major tour and Dad decided it was time to settle back to his roots. Knowing we were going to be staying put for a considerable period of time I worked up the courage to ask Dad if I could go back to school. I’ve wanted to go back to school forever, I’m still not entirely sure why I was removed in the first place but, between Dad’s vague answers and the constant moving I’ve never brought it up. There was a time when I was enrolled in school, I only have fuzzy memories of that time, considering I was five when I was pulled out. All I can get out of Dad was while I was in school one day a reporter snuck into the school to question me. Ever since then I’ve had a tutor at home. Kind of hard to get away with slacking when you’re the only student. I’ve had almost as many tutors as I’ve had new homes. The latest is the longest one I’ve had, following us on tour. Yes, I still had to complete school work while touring the world, not fair right. Miss Tusk was basically my babysitter for the last two years. Teacher during the day, then nanny during the nights. She was friendly enough, and I did have a bit of a laugh with her, but how was I going to get out of homework when my teacher was watching over me. It was a bit claustrophobic.

Anyway, it took a bit of time, and a lot of help from others but I’m actually going to start high school in September. The only down side is I’ll be starting in year eight, a year later than my new classmates. Friendships will already be forged, some continuing on from primary school, I’ll be at a complete disadvantage there. The thought scares me, but I can’t show Dad that or I’ll never be allowed to go. He’s freaking out enough about me going to school if I show him I’m scared I’ll never be allowed to leave the house. Did I mention he can be a bit overly protective?

I reached the turning I needed to take, and relief washed through me. Sitting a few yards down the road was the familiar car. Checking no-one was around I reached into my bag for the car keys. Quickening my pace with every step. Taking my seat, I locked the doors and let out a sigh of relief. I’d made it. With the car sitting under a tree I was engulfed by the hulking shadow. I was freezing. After pulling my hood up and pulling the ties tight, I grabbed my blanket and e-reader from my bag. Might as well finish my chapter while I wait for Dad.

How presumptuous of me. I could not concentrate on the book. Every few minutes I stole glances up and down the street, keeping a look-out for Dad.

A couple of lines of reading.

Was that movement up ahead.

No, I’m imagining things.

A couple of lines of reading.

Did I see something in the mirror?

I continued with this game until the band car creeped around the corner. By the time Dad got to his side of the car, I had re-packed my bag and unlocked the door.

He grabbed me instantly, planting a kiss on my forehead. The overwhelming smell of sweat made me push him back a bit so I could breathe.

Are you okay? Nobody saw you? Nobody approach you? Dad streamed, keeping a hand on my shoulder to reassure himself that I was still there. I stifled a laugh. He panicked about me, that much was expected, but now I was safely in the car with him I couldn’t help but find my earlier paranoia stupid.

I’m fine, once I got past the rabble I didn’t see anyone else on the streets, I reassured him.

Just so you know, I’m never letting you go alone again. That was the most scared I’ve ever been.

Great, I’ll never be allowed to leave home now. You’re going to have to let me go out again sometime, Dad.

"Says, who. I’m your father, which means I get to tell you when