On the red carpet: Peaches Geldof poses for the cameras at a premiere Despite the driver knocking on her door several times, and my phone calls, she hadn’t shown up. My anger disappeared in a flash, and around me I could feel the team melt, too. Either way, fast forward five years and that naive young schoolgirl was a far cry from the infamous party girl who recently collapsed after an alleged drugs overdose and three weeks ago had a quickie Las Vegas wedding to American musician Max Drummey, her boyfriend of just four weeks.My euphoria only a matter of days ago at signing her up as ELLEgirl’s first columnist in December 2003 was now a distant memory and the hard slog of negotiations with her father, Sir Bob, seemed all in vain. She looked so – well – young.‘We wondered what had happened to you,’ I said.‘Yah, well, my Dad’s away and we, like, had a party last night,’ she said, laconically. Dad’s coming back today and we had to clear up or he would have, like, gone mental. The marriage, of which Sir Bob was apparently unaware until two hours before the ceremony, did not go down well at home – though her father is now said to have given it his blessing.
Yet we agreed a celebrity rate of considerably more than we’d have paid an unknown writer.Bob was maddeningly protective but I admired him for it.Yes, he would frequently talk over me, often riding roughshod over my opinions.The day he finally decided we were going to provide a suitably credible platform for Peaches to air her opinions felt like winning a marathon.I still had no idea of her talents as a writer but it turned out she did have a precocious gift for writing, with a strong voice and eye-opening field of reference.It was 11am and Peaches Geldof was now a full two hours late for her first photoshoot. ‘Passenger on board’ meant the shoot was back on track. A few minutes later, she appeared at the studio door with a posse of giggling friends, uniformly turned out with long hair, skinny jeans and ballet pumps.