Remembering Wincey Willis – A Spark of Sunshine, On and Off Screen

Particularly for me, and for Nick Owen and Wincey—it was the three of us from the beginning. That trio bond was real. We held each other up when morale was low, and we shared the victories when they came. And they did come. We were a very successful team, and Wincey played her part magnificently—sunshine in the studio and behind the scenes.

Everybody loved her. Her warmth, her energy, her sheer presence—Wincey had that unique gift of lighting up a room without ever trying too hard. And she never saw herself as “just the weather girl.” Far from it. She was our unofficial liaison officer—running between the green room and the studio like a cheerful whirlwind. She knew everything and everyone—who had arrived, who was nervous, who was excited, and who might need a bit of careful handling.

There was a morning I particularly remember when we were expecting the Bee Gees. She burst in, wide-eyed and thrilled: “Maurice is here already and he’s in a very good mood!” Then half an hour later: “Robin’s here too—and he’s also in a good mood!” And finally: “Barry’s here now—and he’s wonderful as well! They’re going to be fantastic!” She brought that backstage sparkle straight into the studio, and it lifted us all.

Of course, it wasn’t always good news. She was our early warning system as well. I remember the morning Oliver Reed was due to appear. He was very, very late, and we were all worrying whether he’d turn up at all. Eventually, Wincey popped her head around the door, gave us a wry smile and said: “He’s here… but I have to warn you—I think he’s just come from a club. I don’t think he’s been to bed.” That was Wincey—honest, humorous, and always looking out for us.

She could also out-party all of us, which is saying something. Nick and I would be tucked up in bed, knowing we had an early start, and somehow Wincey would be out until the small hours—and still breeze into the studio with her hair perfect and her spirits high. I never understood how she did it!

And then there was the time—one of my favourite memories—when we had Pelé, George Best, and Jimmy Greaves on the sofa together. I mean, what a line-up. And Wincey, with typical flair, dashed down Camden High Street to a sports shop, bought a football, and brought it back for them to sign. She later gave it to charity. That’s the sort of person she was—kind, thoughtful, generous, and always thinking of others.

It’s terribly, terribly sad that her final years weren’t how she would have wanted them to be. She deserved better. But I want the television industry to remember her properly—as a force of nature, because she was. A real professional. A bright spark. And above all, someone we loved very, very much.

Goodbye, Wincey. You’ll never be forgotten.