Inside Ann Widdecombe’s Dartmoor home | UK | News

This work was first published in 2011.

Ann Widdecombe has never been one to shy away from confrontation.

When he has an opinion to voice, he expresses it directly, whether by challenging Craig Revel Horwood on Strictly Come Dancing or engaging with the country’s most prominent politicians, including the Prime Minister himself.

The former Shadow Home Secretary has strict rules in place for guests visiting the Haytor residence on the east end of Dartmoor, which he bought in 2008 for its stunning views and walking opportunities and plans to live there permanently.

“No shoes in the open air. No bad animals,” announces a notice displayed prominently on the door of the saloon.

As I took off my shoes, I briefly questioned whether my photographer could be described as a disgusting monster, which is an amusing thought.

Managing the various people working efficiently on her property (assistant Sarah, curtain fitter Phil, a tradesman and several others whilst dealing with calls from a committed ITN producer), Ann proves instantly welcoming and approachable.

“Can I get you coffee? Biscuits?”

He quickly determines who needs his undivided focus (me) and directs me to the lounge, allowing the remaining employees to continue their duties.

We position ourselves on opposite green sofas next to large windows overlooking the spectacular view, and my allotted interview time begins. Or at least, I assume it’s allotted time, but as the conversation progresses it becomes clear that this is a relaxed and contented Ann, enjoying retirement and perfectly willing to give me as much time as necessary.

She doesn’t even bat an eyelid when the photographer suggests taking her to the moors for stormy outdoor shots. He’s – just like Strictly – absolutely up for it.

“If you had told me a year ago, Ann, that you would be dancing on prime time television, doing a live tour, playing Wembley (among other places), then going to a pantomime with Craig Revel Horwood… I would have said, ‘Lie down and take an aspirin,'” he chuckled.

“But it happened. I think the great thing about retirement is that I’ve managed to accept what most of the commentators haven’t – that I’m not a politician anymore. They’re all ‘Is it OK for him to do Strictly Come Dancing?’ he said. If I were a member of parliament, this wouldn’t happen. But I am not a member of parliament. “Almost before I retired, I realized that the minute I was no longer a politician was the minute I no longer had to act like a politician.”

He smiles cheerfully. “I’m completely free. I’m open to opportunities. And I’ve certainly opened up a future I never expected. I was offered a role in Grease in the West End and I was so upset I couldn’t accept it because it clashed with the Strictly tour. They wanted me to play the very serious headmaster, which I thought was ideally suited, but I couldn’t do it. A role in the West End would have been great fun!”

His pantomime stint over Christmas as “Widdy in Waiting” alongside Craig’s Evil Queen at Dartford’s Orchard Theater promises to be a riotous twice-daily spectacle – one his loyal former voters in nearby Maidstone, Kent, are unlikely to miss (a seat he held for 23 years before quitting at the 2010 General Election).

He remains open to more showbiz ventures. “I’m working on my fifth novel and planning my autobiography. Basically, I don’t know what’s going to happen next, and that’s the joy of retirement. You take what you get!”

However, one opportunity that did not materialize was his elevation to the House of Lords. After announcing his departure from the House of Commons, he actually predicted that a peerage would quickly follow.

As Baroness Widdecombe, she was even making plans to examine the practices of debt collection agencies. “Yes, I would have liked that (a peerage),” he says, “but it wasn’t offered, so there’s no point in dwelling on it. I always thought I was a natural candidate because I’d been in parliament for 23 years, held a number of ministerial posts, been Shadow Health Secretary and Shadow Home Secretary, done more than just going to the Conservative Associations around the country. But in Cameron’s eyes I obviously wasn’t.”

Could this be because Ann backed Ken Clarke for the Tory leadership in 2005 and told Radio 4’s Today program that Mr Cameron was “too young”?

Or perhaps his decidedly un-Conservative stance on fox hunting?

Or is it his relentless stance on abortion?

Or was it her opposition to female ordination that was the main reason she left the Church of England and converted to Catholicism in 1993?

Or could it be his reputation as being overly authoritarian, preachy and abrasive?

“I don’t know,” he sighs. “You’ll have to ask him. I think it’s because I’m too traditional and against the modernization program. And I suspect he thinks he doesn’t want me around either.”

Ah.

His relentless and outspoken stance on almost every issue would certainly not be well suited to the compromises required by coalition politics. “I hate coalitions,” he says.

“But it is an inevitable evil. At a time of economic chaos, Cameron’s only option was a minority rule, which would have been an irresponsible option. So I think all responsible people should hope for the good of this for the duration of the parliament; of course I wouldn’t want it to last much longer.”

To be fair, Cameron did offer Ann, now 63, a post at the Vatican, which she wanted, but the timing proved problematic.

“I had all kinds of doubts about it, and then in July I had a tear in my retina and the eye kind of resolved that,” he says.

The choice of location depended on whether to Dartmoor or the north-west Highlands; both were great hiking grounds and that was his priority.

The West Country won out because a) it was less remote, b) it had family ties and c) it loved swimming.

“I know the area well,” he says. “My father was born in Saltash. My mother was born in Plymouth. I still have an old aunt in Saltash, a cousin in Torquay, and that’s about it though.

“I used to come here quite often to visit relatives and things like that, and then as I got older I walked a lot on Dartmoor, first with my father, and in later years on my own or with a friend.”

Rambling is his passion and these days he often goes out for hours walking to Hound Tor and further afield. “When you walk by yourself on the moor, many miles from anywhere, and you don’t see another human being for days, or you only see them very far away, then yes, you can definitely feel closer to God.”

Born in Bath, Ann was educated at a naval school in Singapore and a convent school in Bath, before studying Latin at the University of Birmingham and then at Lady Margaret Hall, Oxford.

His father, James, was a civil servant in the MOD. Following her death in 1999, her widowed mother, Rita, moved in with Ann until her death in 2007.

“I always said whichever parent went first, I would take care of the other,” says Ann matter-of-factly.

He had an older brother, Malcolm, who was ten years his senior and served as an Anglican Priest in Bristol. He passed away from cancer in October last year, with Ann’s nephew, the Rev Roger Widdecombe, conducting the service.

From a fairly young age he knew that a career in politics was his calling.

“I wanted to fight against socialism, but if you said that to an 18-year-old today they’d look at you blankly. People think it’s about New Labor and of course it’s not.”

His first unsuccessful foray into politics came in 1979 when he contested the Lancashire seat of Burnley, followed by another abortive bid to unseat David Owen in Plymouth Devonport in 1983. Undaunted, he eventually triumphed at Maidstone in 1987.

Ann never walked down the aisle and never had children. However, he experienced true love.

There’s a great photo of her in her twenties, when she was a student at Oxford, where she studied philosophy, politics and economics, looking slim, polished and quite attractive with her hair falling down to her shoulders and a velvet collar adorning her neck.

His name was Colin Maltby and he was elected President of the Oxford Union in 1973.

These must have been intoxicating, exciting times.

“Yes, there was someone in Oxford,” he says. “We had a three-year romance and I think a lot of our friends thought we were going to get engaged. But it didn’t happen.”

But she “preferred to assume I would find someone else and get married. But it was always a mixture of choice and luck that I didn’t. Luck, because Mr. Right didn’t come. Choice, because he was never a big enough priority to go looking.”

Colin married and built a successful career as a banker in Geneva.

Ann came to live just a stone’s throw away from Widecombe In The Moor.

It’s clear that he never lost his sharp wit. He named his new home Widdecombe’s Rest.

“A lot of people think it means rest,” he laughs. “But really that means the rest of Widdecombe’s life!”

This article was first published on Devon Live.