Craig Revel Horwood reveals request from Ann Widdecombe days before her death

The last email from Ann Widdecombe was a burst of “Yippee, Yippee, YIPPEE!!” before her body was found on July 9 in her Devon bungalow, a scene that would later trigger a murder investigation. In the days that followed, the former MP and 2010 Strictly Come Dancing contestant’s voice was heard in the voice of a man who had once shared a dance floor with her. Craig Revel Horwood, a 61‑year‑old judge on the same show, recalls a brief but poignant request from Widdecombe that would become the last memory he shares of her.

When Widdecombe was still alive, she had asked Horwood to appear as a guest speaker for one of her charities. She could not attend that particular night, and Horwood replied, “Of course I will, my darling.” The email exchange ended with her exuberant “Yippee, Yippee, YIPPEE!!”, a phrase that would echo in the headlines days later. The request was not a grand political appeal; it was a simple, human gesture that crossed the boundaries between celebrity, politics, and charity.

On the morning of July 9, the 78‑year‑old politician was found dead in her home on the edge of Dartmoor, Devon. A subsequent investigation revealed that she had been struck 21 times with a hammer while eating lunch. The brutality of the attack was described by prosecutors as a “ferocity of violence.” Joshua Kerry, a 28‑year‑old from Rotherham, South Yorkshire, was charged with the murder after allegedly entering Widdecombe’s bungalow, striking her with the tool, and then taking her wallet. He has been remanded in custody and will appear at the Old Bailey on October 9.

Widdecombe’s public life was marked by sharp political stances: she opposed LGBTQ+ legislation, maintained a staunch anti‑abortion record, and rejected modern feminism. Yet Horwood’s account paints a different picture. He says that, “no matter what you think about someone politically, she was a human being, a really lovely person privately.” His words suggest that the public persona can be eclipsed by the private warmth that people like Horwood witnessed.

Widdecombe’s most memorable moments on Strictly came with partner Anton Du Beke, a pairing that delivered both humor and heart to viewers. Even after her scores were low, her comedic timing and willingness to laugh at herself made her a beloved figure. Horwood’s recollection of her request for a speaking slot underscores the continuity of her character: a woman who could still find joy in a simple invitation, even as her life was cut short.

The news of Widdecombe’s death sent ripples through former colleagues and the Strictly community. The show’s resident critic, known as “Mr Nasty,” and other stars spoke out in tribute, reminding fans that behind the political headlines there was a person who could laugh, dance, and be “warm, wickedly funny.” The tragedy also highlighted the fragility of life and the unpredictable nature of violence that can strike anyone, regardless of status.

In reflecting on this story, I am struck by how quickly a public figure’s narrative can shift from political debate to personal loss. The last email from Widdecombe, a burst of joy, contrasts starkly with the horror that followed. As the legal process moves forward, the community will remember her not only for her controversial stances but for the warmth she shared with those who crossed her path, a reminder that even the most polarizing figures can possess a tender humanity.