Reading the sea of tributes posted online by many of those who knew Ann Widdecombe well, I feel almost as though I knew her personally myself.
God works in mysterious ways, meaning that even in the midst of evil and tragedy, there can still be good. How else do you explain it when an elderly lady dies in the most appalling circumstances – presumably driven by the motive of silencing her – and her voice becomes louder and more resounding than ever?
This article is premium content
Get unlimited access to Gript
Support Gript and get exclusive content, full archives and an ad-free experience
Subscribe
Already a member? Sign in here
