Adam Trimingham column

She will go down in history as the first MP to have outed herself as a lesbian.

But she will be remembered in Shoreham for her many and varied antics on the urban district council.

Maureen Colquhoun and her husband Keith, a journalist on The Sun newspaper, had three children.

One of them, Eddie, was born deaf and once Mrs Colquhoun locked herself in a doctors’ surgery until she felt he had received the treatment he deserved.

He remained in Shoreham where he produced local history books of the town illustrated with old postcards.

Mrs Colquhoun was leader of the tiny Labour opposition of just three members on the council. Most of the others were Tories. She proved to be much brighter than them, which was not difficult, and they got fed up with hearing the sound of her voice.

This might not have mattered so much had the Argus reporter for Shoreham not been Harry Treadwell an astute journalist.

Thanks to him she was soon known over the whole country as Mrs Chatterbox, not a name that would be allowed in these more politically correct days. The story was prolonged when Tories banned her from being the council’s representative on outside organisations. They found they could not do this legally and had to reinstate her. She described the moves against her as having a touch of the jackboot about them.

Harry was given permission by the Argus to sell stories to the national papers, provided he had offered them first priority and Maureen made so much money for him that it was rumoured he had insured her life.

He had seen the potential in Maureen Colquhoun and had helped her become a well-known local politician long before the Mrs Chatterbox story.

Unlike many reporters, he was an astute businessman who later formed a successful publishing business.

Among the many issues she raised locally was a call for an inquiry into the state of council housing.

I met her once before a meeting of Shoreham Harbour Trustees who were late in arriving because they had lunched well. Mrs Colquhoun objected to this and received a robust riposte from Brighton councillor Victor Nicholls. He had been the wartime mayor of Brighton and had started the long running variety show Tuesday at the Dome. In a loud voice she asked: “Who is that old, fat, drunken man?”

I always thought it was a pity they did not meet again for they had much in common in rebelling against authority with wit and humour.

In 1974, urban councillors were abolished and anyway it was time for Maureen Colquhoun to move on.

She stood for election as an MP in the newly formed and highly marginal seat of Northampton North and surprised many people by winning and holding on to the seat in the second contest that year. She made an immediate impact by asking the Speaker to call her Ms, long before this was common.

In an even bigger surprise, she announced she was now living with a female partner and had left her family.

Many Labour members objected to this and tried to deselect her. She found the socialists of Northampton a different proposition from a few old Tories in Shoreham. There was a long battle which was taken to the party at a national level. Many outsiders felt she had been treated shabbily and it certainly would not happen today.

The row was only settled just before the 1979 election and although she put up a good show, she had been weakened and she lost.

That was the end of her Parliamentary career but not of her life as an activist. She campaigned for better working conditions at Westminster for staff and spent eight turbulent years on the London borough of Hackney where there was infighting on a grand scale.

She eventually retired with her partner, now her wife, to the Lake District where she fought against low flying aircraft and speeding boats that she felt spoilt the tranquillity of the countryside.

She opposed a proposal to sack volunteer park rangers and stopped the plan with her eloquent opposition.

News of her ceaseless activities reached Shoreham where she was remembered fondly by people she had helped. She belied her public image by being kind and thoughtful.

Often she was her own worst enemy, almost willing her enemies to attack her, and she did not seem to mind losing. She could have become a feminist icon but was too much of a maverick.

I shall always be grateful for seeing and hearing her at her coruscating best, bringing laughter and a touch of danger to proceedings.