Until a few days ago, Catherine Blaiklock’s X profile read like the opening lines of a political tragedy. First, the proud declaration: “Founder of The Brexit Party” — the political force now called Reform UK and led by Nigel Farage. And then, the bitter accusation: “Farage deliberately destroyed me.”
Earlier this month, however, that second statement was deleted. Not, it seems, because Blaiklock has found forgiveness — but because she has discovered a more potent route to retribution.
In the upcoming by-election in Runcorn and Helsby, due to be held on 1 May, Blaiklock is standing for the English Democrats, in the hope of siphoning votes from Reform. At the same time, her feud with Farage has spilled beyond politics: on Friday 4 April, Blaiklock submitted 29 documents to the Metropolitan Police, along with allegations that he unlawfully seized control of the Brexit Party in 2019.
What follows could mark a serious challenge to Farage’s insurgent project. Since last year’s general election — when Reform stunned Westminster by winning five seats — the British Right has been unable to rally. The Conservative Party is still staggering from its defeat, and Reform’s ascent has been far from smooth. Last month, weeks of internal strife erupted into public view when Farage suspended Rupert Lowe, the MP for Great Yarmouth, over allegations of “verbal threats”. Since then, despite maintaining a strong showing in the polls, Reform has been distracted by internal sniping.
For Blaiklock, now 62, the stage seems set for a political comeback. Farage is a “dictator”, she says, before describing him as her “Frankenstein’s monster”.
Could revenge finally be within reach?
Take the train east from Norwich towards the Norfolk Broads and, at first, the track runs prettily alongside the River Yare. But by the third stop, the scenery shifts: at Lingwood, the meandering waterway gives way to a scatter of red-brick bungalows. “Almost everyone here voted for Brexit,” says one resident, casting a glance toward the neighbouring, more prosperous village of South Burlingham. “Everyone there works either for the National Trust or the National Health Service.”
Just beyond Lingwood’s edge stands the imposing Lingwood Hall — a broad house with manicured gardens and two skeletal plane trees. Blaiklock appears barefoot at the door, and ushers me inside.
The interior is warmly furnished, with walls lined with books, photographs, and maps of Antarctica — a nod to her father Kenneth, a celebrated explorer whose name adorns both a glacier and an island in the southern continent. Pride of place goes to Blaiklock’s class picture from Christ Church College, Oxford, where she was awarded a scholarship to read geography in the early 1980s.
To read the rest of this article, become a member for free.