Never Underestimate the Pricey: Part Deux

In the second instalment of my Katie Price newsletters I talk about the juggling act of being friends when you're on different sides of the fence AND what is was like being at THAT wedding.

The thing about being friends with a celebrity when you're a journalist is both sides are constantly walking on eggshells and tiptoeing along a tightrope to maintain the relationship. It’s tricky on every level. Well, that is if you actually like them and you’re not just doing it to befriend them for a story.

I never liked to do that. It’s shady.

If I had to decipher Katie and my relationship it was a mixture of the two. I’m not sure I ever got to see the real Katie – and I’m not sure she ever got to see the real me. But there was respect for each other.

You see, in one way they want you as a friend but in another way they know you're always going to do your job and they need you close and on good terms for when the shit hits the fan.

My friendship with Katie Price was great in 2005 when she began taking the path towards marrying her jungle-lover Peter Andre following their whistle stop romance on I'm A Celebrity.

We'd text each other all the time about the gossip in the celeb world. If she was pissed off, my phone would go and a text full-to-the-brim of grammatical mistakes would pop through. All lower case. She kept me giggling and I never wrote a word of what she said. It was our fun. Being in touch with her was also a great way of me being able to check out stories about her when they happened.

“Was that true then?” I'd text when somebody claimed to have had a bust-up with her in a club. It was a friendship that worked for both of us. Katie always adored knowing the gossip from the journalists on Fleet Street and I loved hearing what was really going on in her world.

You can only imagine how excited I was when in the summer of 2005 an invite was delivered to my desk at Loaded magazine. Inside a cardboard tube I pulled out a hilariously cheap looking scroll, with plastic trims and a hideous font. I unravelled it and read the text. I was 'cordially' invited to attend the wedding of Katie Price and Peter Andre at Highclere Castle on September 5.

I was kind of gobsmacked at first. I know I knew Katie and Peter through work, from out and about and on a semi-personal level. But this was a pretty big deal. Every single tabloid journalist in the country would have killed to get into this event. In those days this was the equivalent of receiving an invite into Willy Wonka’s factory. Everybody wanted in. This wedding was being dubbed one of the single most eagerly anticipated celebrity weddings of all time. Still to this day it’s like a showbiz fable. I knew immediately it was going to be a one-off showbiz spectacle – never to be repeated.

I obviously RSVP'd and said I'd attend and tried not to think much of it until nearer the date.

In the meantime, my life was turned upside down after being made redundant from Loaded. Within weeks I was shifting at More magazine to keep the pennies coming in and eventually found my way into a job at Closer, the UK's then biggest celebrity and real life magazine.

This was great news for me but on the other hand I knew immediately my job and my friendship with Katie was set to be compromised.

Jane Johnson, the then editor, was tabloid through to the core - ruthless and ambitious. She did anything for the story and this in turn was the reason Closer was leagues above the rest of the weekly magazines – Jane ran it like a tabloid paper and knew exactly what the reader wanted and what would make a shitload of noise. We had Coleen Rooney as a columnist at the time and before that Tara Palmer Tomkinson had kept readers enthralled. Jane knew how to keep her readers loyal and she was a huge mother figure to me on that title.

She made it clear from the get-go she would want the inside track on what want down at the wedding of the decade. Katie Price sold copies for Closer. Whatever was happening in her life was fodder for the readers – no matter how small. Katie Price's wedding information would guarantee big sales.

As the weeks flew by all guests were eventually asked to sign a non-disclosure form to say they wouldn't reveal any details of the wedding in the weeks leading up to and following the event. We were also warned our phones would be taken from us upon arrival at Highclere so as no pictures could leak – and I guess so no calls could be put into the Sunday newspapers on the day of the wedding.

Peter and Katie's manager Claire Powell was clucking like a mother goose over the nuptials. She knew how much money was at stake and she didn’t want anything to risk that pay day.

Claire would regularly call me for a chat in the lead up to the wedding and fill me in on what would be happening – occasionally she would give me some information for Closer too. But no real specifics. She knew she had to be seen to be looking after all outlets across the board – she couldn't afford to piss anybody in the magazine or newspaper world because it would mean less money for her. She was always very close to Victoria Newton at The Sun and you would often see that paper bringing in far more exclusives on Katie and Peter than the Mirror did. If you looked after Claire she would look after you...but you had to show the cash at all times. If she knew she could get a fast buck out of you then she was well up for being your 'friend'.

As OK magazine was buying up the wedding, Claire knew I needed to be ‘silenced’ on the day of the wedding but also seemed to respect the fact I'd known Katie for far longer than she had and we were genuinely showbiz mates.

The day of the wedding arrived, and I was crapping myself. I'd had all the Sunday tabloid newspapers calling me that day trying to persuade me to tell them all, film the event undercover and offering me huge sums of money to do so. I'd turned it all down. This had to be a case of morals coming before a fast buck.

From the minute I arrived at Highclere I knew this was going to be a once-in-a-lifetime experience. After I'd been through a metal detector and had my phone removed from my possesion, I walked into the grounds and saw a huge pumpkin carriage being drawn by six beautiful white horses. Katie was covered in fabric from her monstrous dress (it had a 21ft train) and there was a pink curtain to stop the paps in helicopters from capturing snaps of her dress.

The service was beautiful in a funny way – Peter cried throughout his vows and it couldn't have looked more like a fantasy world. Everything was so over the top. The flowers were jungle-like, everything glowed pink and the outfits in general from the guests were wild. Reflecting nowadays, I can describe the whole day by saying it was like being on acid at Disneyland. It would have been right at home in a version of Footballer's Wives – think Barbie and Ken getting hitched with hallucinogenic mushrooms.

The first time I got to see Katie and Peter to congratulate them Katie had decided to do some solo shots in her wedding dress for OK magazine and Pete was floundering by the side. His nerves looked shot to shit and he came up and gave me a big hug. As I sorted out his tie which was slightly wonky he leaned in and whispered in my ear: “You don't think it's tacky, do you?”

ERM. THERE'S A PUMPKIN CARRAIGE, KATIE HAS A 21FT TRAIN, EVERYTHING IS PINK AND YOU'VE GOT WEIRD HAIR EXTENSIONS IN.

“Noooooooo, not at all,” I said trying to keep a straight face. I wanted to scream and piss my pants laughing.

The thing about Pete that I've always thought is he has a good heart. He's not the sharpest tool in the box but he means well. He was always in far too deep water with Katie. She was a handful and obviously ran rings around him but at the same time he seemed to relish his role as the bullied husband throughout their time together.

Anyway, following the service I was sat on a fun table made up of Jennifer Ellison and her then boyfriend Tony Richardson, athlete Diane Modahl and Jennie Bond. Vanessa Feltz was nearby and Paul Gascoigne was there. Katie had also been forced to pull together a troop of mostly rent-a-pal bridesmaids to ensure she got her whopping magazine deal out of the big day. Step forward, Girls Aloud star Sarah Harding (RIP), Kerry Katona and Liberty X’er Michelle Heaton – although they’re still pals to this day.

After our wedding breakfast, of lobster salad and, er, chicken, the speeches began, and this is when the acid truly kicked in.

There was a huge pink (natch) runway erected down the centre of the room which led to the top table which was on a stage at the far end. Katie and Peter presided over everybody throughout the meal and Katie could hardly sit down in her extraordinary wedding dress. Following the speeches Katie grabbed the microphone and thanked OK magazine for “raising my bank balance no end”. She then grabbed Pete's hand, and they walked down the catwalk to the dance floor where they preceded to sing along to their own recorded version of Aladdin's theme song, A Whole New World.

As guests we were all sat there totally and utterly gobsmacked.

Following the first dance guests were ushered outside and there was a huge fireworks display along with a 10-minute light show projection onto the side of the castle. Pictures of the couple flashed up – played out to the Bros hit When Will I Be Famous. I mean.

For the reception after, Katie appeared in a tiny wedding basque and tutu with stripper heels. What else would she be wearing? I loved it.

It was an extraordinary evening. And I couldn't wait to tell the only person I could trust about what had gone on – my mum. Lucky her, eh.

The following Monday I got into work at Closer and obviously in the daily news conference the talk was only about Katie and Peter's wedding. It was agreed I'd go to Claire Powell and see what I was able to write, if anything, for the following issue.

But Claire seemed helpful. She said I could write pretty much anything about the day – so long as there wasn't too much given away about the evening. The last thing Claire wanted to do was scupper Katie and Peter's huge money deal with OK – but the actual wedding issue was out 24 hours later so it was no biggie talking in the past tense about the event.

So, I went ahead and wrote a lovely piece about the nuptials with as much detail as I could remember and it ran the following Tuesday.

I knew right from the beginning that the situation was going to be difficult. Naturally, come that Tuesday in September when the issue hit the stands Claire hit the fucking roof. She was furious that the piece included information about the evening's proceedings (which were running in OK the week after) and said Katie and Peter were livid. Not sure on that one tbh.

It later turned-out Claire had told Katie and Peter that I'd done the piece without her even knowing and I'd been given all the blame. I was pissed off at Claire for dropping me in it like that and to be honest barely spoke to her after that unless I really had to in my role at Closer.

Katie and I didn't speak for years after that, and Katie had been thoroughly poisoned into thinking I had double crossed her by doing the piece. It was a shame to fall out after so long as buddies. I received a furious text saying: “I can’t believe you did that in closer.” And that was it!

The truth of the matter is I only really came into contact once with Katie before we buried the hatchet for good in 2011.

I was still working for Closer three years later in 2008 and my good friend Sam Pemberton had text me late on one evening and said she was having drinks with Katie, her make-up artist bestie Gary Cockerill and his partner Phil Turner at Boujis in South Kensington.

I pitched up about half an hour later and Katie had 'turned into' Jordan for one night only and was proper wrecked. She was dancing on her table; boobs were falling out and she was on a mission to have fun.

She clapped eyes on me and seemed shocked. Next thing you know she whispered in Sam's ear and within minutes she was leaving through the back door of the club to avoid the paps that had assembled there.

Sam text saying sorry and I decided to have a night cap with Louis Buckworth and Poppy and Chloe Delevingne around the corner at Louis' venue Firehouse in South Kensington. It was our favourite hangout, at the time.

But little did I know that Sam had come up with the same idea. I was just slurping on my vodka apple juice when the tornado that was Jordan arrived.

She immediately came upstairs into the main restaurant where I was sitting with the girls and went into the back room and closed the sliding doors behind her. Sam appeared a minute later and said: “I'm sorry darling but she's fucked and says she doesn't want to be anywhere near you. I don't know what to say.”

“Well, you're my friend first and foremost – not hers,” I replied to Sam. “Come sit with us and leave them to it.”

Sam went behind the screen and sat with Katie.

Anyway, she didn't stay away for long. Half an hour later Katie burst through the doors screeching that she needed a drink. By this point Gary was having to hold her up because she was that plastered and she insisted on going to the bar herself.

The thing about Firehouse was the fact we would often have cheeky lock-ins to enjoy with our own friends (it was our equivalent of the Central Perk but with more naughtiness) and not worry about having to go to a club and pay for expensive drinks. Louis part-owned it with the Delevingne girls' father Charles, so it was ideal for us.

Katie was attracting a lot of attention as she was followed to the venue. There were 10-or-so paparazzi gathered outside waiting for 'Jordan' to leave.

After what seemed like forever with Katie trying to decide what to drink, she told us all to “shut the fuck up” and that she was going to perform a song for us. I looked at Chloe and rolled my eyes and before you knew it Katie had walked behind the bar to begin her rendition of Whitney Houston's I Have Nothing. For those of you that don't know, this is Katie's party trick. It's very funny and extraordinarily bad after a lot of grog. The poor girl was slurring all over the shop.

Looking back on it, this was an extremely funny moment, but we all felt like we were trapped in the room and just wanted to get out. Chloe put her head in her hands and started sniggering and Katie began lashing out: “Oooooiiiiiiiii, oi you. You dumb blonde bitch. Listen to me sing.”

And that was enough. Louis, who at the time was engaged to Chloe, grabbed Katie by the arm and started walking her to the door. Louis said: “I've had enough of you and your gob. You're out of here.”

We all started cheering as Katie, Gary and Phil were marched downstairs and thrown into 20 flashbulbs at 4am. Good riddance! We were eventually left to enjoy our nightcap in peace and all reflected on the hilarious evening.

It wasn't until years later that Katie and I managed to sort out our differences and have a conversation about the wedding and what happened with that infamous piece.

Katie told me Claire hadn't mentioned the fact she'd given me permission to write the piece at all. In fact, Claire blamed it all on me and said I'd done the piece without her knowledge – putting the OK magazine deal in jeopardy by doing so. No wonder she had been pissed at me. I would have been.

This was completely false, and the crossed wires had meant years of us avoiding each other out and about.

By the time we had our making up conversation Katie just seemed to be in a far better place all round. She was free of CAN Associates and Claire, out of her marriage to Pete and dating Argentinian model Leandro Penna. She seemed far more able to talk openly and honestly about her life and I really got the feeling the penny had dropped (somewhat, keeping in mind months later she split with Leandro and married a stripper turned painter and decorator called Kieran).

I remember, in my role as showbiz columnist at the Sunday Mirror I went off to spend an entire day with Katie as she took part in a press call for one of Harvey's specialist schools which needed more funding. Then I would follow her about while she carried out a full day of book signings with her book publicist, Diana Colbert.

After being picked up in a motorway lay by with the girls and their driver, we headed off for the first stop and things didn't look promising. Katie was asleep under a blanket in the car and didn't move for an hour. Righty ho, I thought.

But eventually she did wake up and things seemed good. She knew I'd be wanting to get to the bottom of every rumour, story and gossip that had been speculated or talked about. She'd only recently split with second husband Alex Reid (the cross-dressing cage fighter, remember) and talked openly on pretty much everything I asked her. The kids, marriage, surgery, body woes, her glamour girl days and being a businesswoman – nothing was out of bounds.

But when we came to discuss Peter I couldn't help but feel like she was incredibly sad about that entire episode in her life. It was as if she was sad, it was over. She spoke about Pete fondly and, despite the numerous legal cases that are still bubbling away between Katie, Claire and Peter, I got the feeling she was still in love with him.

I left the interview thinking that if Claire Powell had not been involved with the management and selling every inch of their private lives then they would still be a couple to this very day. I truly believe this.

“I don’t have a problem with Pete at all,” Katie revealed. “I think it’s the other way round. I haven’t got a problem with him or his management. I’ve hardly done any interviews and as soon as I do I get shit for it. My exes have constantly done interviews about me and said things and I can’t be arsed anymore to deal with constantly bickering. It’s boring. If you knew the amount of money Pete and I have wasted, you would die. One case with Pete has cost us £750,000 and its continuing. It’s a huge waste.”

Katie seemed to be making far more sense than she ever has. Had the experience with Claire made her change her ways? Did she suddenly value her privacy? One thing Katie continually seemed to be trying to drum into my head as we carried out the interview was the fact that she was incredibly disappointed by the fact Pete continued to allow their children Junior and Princess to be filmed for his reality show.

After the CAN and Claire Powell years where she happily allowed them screen time, Katie nowadays wants them to have as normal an upbringing as possible – away from the cameras.

“I don’t really speak to Pete a lot,” she said in a sad tone. “We’re not talking purely through lawyers now – but it’s small talk when we are with the kids. I’m not happy that the kids are still filmed or that they’re still involved in photo shoots for Pete. I’ve kept my word on this. They’re not involved in my professional life. I picked the kids up from school yesterday and Princess – who’s quite gobby – says to me: “I enjoyed school and mummy: ‘Daddy took photos of us yesterday and Daddy filmed us’. In our uniform – going to school.”

“Junior’s more sensitive and caring and pitched in saying Pete hadn’t – he’s trying to protect Pete. And then Junior told the truth and Pete had. Why film them in their uniform like that? My problem is I want them to have a normal upbringing now they’re older. There are kidnappers and paedophiles everywhere these days and I don’t want them standing out. Anything can happen and we’ve had security scares in the past. I want protection for my kids. We just don’t agree over it.

“I want them to have a normal upbringing – as normal as they can. I’ve moved house now and I’ve told Pete that I want them to move schools. To a private school that I’ve found that will be perfect. If he’s going to carry on filming them and doing shoots then I want them private and protected. “After school activities will be done there then and we don’t have to worry. I want them doing karate and swimming and activities. It’s a nightmare with the kids when it comes to Pete. We split the time directly down the middle and it’s hard to make it work.

“The other thing I would say to Pete is with all the filming and photo shoots, don’t you think they deserve the best education we can give them. You don’t pay the kids to do this work. So the least you can do is give them a proper paid for education.”

She seemed to be on a role by this point and carried on. “Yes, my personal life did bring in my pay cheque at one point - but not anymore,” she said. “Years ago I was in a completely different bubble with the people around me. Everything I bloody did was filmed and documented. Up until the day I gave birth even. I was filmed for the show in the lift going for my epidural. I agreed with it at the time. But I can’t believe I did it looking back. I was a fool. For five or six years everything was documented. Now I’m out of that bubble I see things so differently. I feel free from that. We shouldn’t be exposing them to this life we have and our careers. And it hasn’t done a thing with me pulling them out of the spotlight. Until Pete does the same those children have no private life.”

Katie even admitted it might still be going to this very day if they hadn't allowed the cameras into their lives. She explained: “Our marriage was a complete joke too. It was all about the cameras and the deals and the jazz hands. It would have lasted for years if we were given time to put the cameras down and actually enjoy being married. Certain people like Claire needed to stay out of it too. But anyway, I’m over it now. It’s a big weight off my shoulders not having to be involved in my old management firm. That’s what happened anyway and now it’s time to move on.

“The sad thing about all of this is for all those photo shoots we did with the kids, as a family, I don’t have one picture to show for it. Claire and CAN won’t give me a picture. All the holidays, the events, the memories are just gone. Claire won’t give them to me. That’s the saddest thing. Six years of my time with Pete and they won’t let me have anything. I have nothing to show of my kids growing up – the only pictures we took were in shoots for magazines.”

I've seen every single aspect of Katie's life over the years. Her loves, losses, fights, antics, and successes. In some ways she’s fearless. The future then didn't faze her. She's a strong woman and will always land on her feet, no matter what.

These days her showbiz crown appear to have slid off with the Mucky Mansion (her palatial country pile that fell into ruin), her money woes and continual talk of bankruptcy and then there’s the continual surgery on her once beautiful face and those wild tattoos.

I hope she’s happy, but I must admit I highly doubt that. Maybe it’s the leeches around her over the years that didn’t allow her true happiness. Maybe it’s her continual desire to be famous. Maybe it’s the celebrity machine that chewed her up and spat her out. Who knows. But I genuinely hope she is happy and finds some calm as she navigates the second half of her life.

One thing’s for sure. It’s always exciting to watch play out – and who knows maybe she’ll get her proper comeback one day. After all, you can never underestimate the Pricey.