On Friday, after weeks of fierce and passionate debate, lawmakers began a formal investigation into a bill that would allow terminally ill adults who are dying within six months to seek help to end their lives.

It was a day of tears, hope, relief and fear. This is the story of how it unfolded in and out of Parliament – ​​and how Labor MP Kim Leadbeater won a historic victory for her proposed legislation.

It is nine in the morning. The MPs’ debate has not yet started but campaigners from both sides are already gathering outside the Houses of Parliament.

People in favor of Leadbeater’s bill near the statue of activist Millicent Fawcett on the west side of Parliament Square.

It’s a sea of ​​pink hats and pink jumpers, provided by the group Dignity in Dying.

Amanda, whose surname we’re not using along with many of our other interviewees, is here from Brighton. She has cared for people in the last stages of life, including a friend suffering from cancer.

She remembers her friend pleading with her to “kill me right now, kill me right now”. “It’s a terrible thing to hear someone say to their loved ones.”

Another woman named Sue is also here, wearing a pink hat. “I think it could be an important day,” she says.

Around the corner, less than a minute’s walk from College Green, people opposing the bill are also gathering.

They are also joined by a 10-foot-tall puppet of a stern judge, holding a giant syringe and raising a condemning finger in the air.

They chant, “Kill the bill, not the sick.”

Hannah is a little further back, looking at the lemon meringue pie-flavored vape and puffing on it.

She fears the bill will change the way people with disabilities are viewed but is also thinking about her father.

“He was given six months but he lived for four years,” she says. “Living those four years meant he was able to meet his grandchildren.”

Almost everyone in both shows has a personal story; A personal reason for being at Westminster on Friday.

Jane cared for her mother in her final years. She says that time was difficult but also “very precious” to her.

She thinks the bill will prompt people like her mother to seek an assisted death.

“I know a judge will be involved in deciding these things but how can they tell what’s in someone’s soul?” She says.

“Someone can say with their mouth that they want to die, but how can a judge know what’s really going on inside their mind.”

Meanwhile, inside Parliament, Labor MP Kim Leadbeater began debate on her bill, after weeks of discussion.

Leadbeater is the MP for Spain Valley, an area previously represented by his sister Jo Cox, the MP who was murdered in 2016.

The atmosphere is generally reflective, thoughtful and respectful, but the atmosphere outside Parliament is beginning to deteriorate.

Both the parties mostly remain in their own separate areas but some campaigners have started clashing with each other at the gate of Parliament.

A woman, in favor of assisted death, holds painful photographs of her father who is still alive but dying and in pain.

She points towards Parliament and then towards the photographs. “I just want someone out there to tell me why it’s OK,” she says.

Nearby, a woman is holding a placard in protest against the bill. It reads: “NHS: It’s not too old, inconvenient or expensive.”

“Your sign is offensive,” the first woman yells at the second. “Are you telling me I don’t care about my father?”

A few steps away, another woman is wrapped in a thick scarf and a woolen cap, pulled down so far that only a small part of her face is visible.

She holds her own placard protesting the bill, and holds a light blue rosary necklace around her fingers.

A man passing by asks him, “How many people have you seen die?”

Away from the noise and drama, Dennis is smoking a cigarette, keeping himself warm in the last remaining bit of winter sunshine.

He has traveled from Northern England. Pointing to the sun, she says: “That’s a great idea, we need to get one of those in Manchester.”

Dennis is strongly against the bill but still sympathizes with the MPs. “I wouldn’t want to be like them,” she says. “No matter what they do, someone will be very sad.”

Lal from London agrees. “I think, I’m sure whoever is talking about this wants to be compassionate and doesn’t want people to suffer,” she says.

“That’s common ground.”

The debate is well underway in the House of Commons.

Conservative MP Kit Malthouse argues against suggestions by others that the bill should be opposed because it would burden the NHS and the courts.

“Are you seriously telling me that my death, my suffering, is too much for the NHS to give time to?” He says.

“That I should drown in the vomit of my own feces because it’s too much trouble for the judges to deal with?”

A Labor MP decides to vote in favor of a bill during debate.

“Kit Malthouse was very powerful,” he says.

“I reserve the right to oppose this at a later stage and I really mean it.”

He says many MPs may change their minds later if “security measures are not strengthened enough”.

The debate ends around 2:15 pm and MPs exit the chamber to vote.

Leadbeater sits on the government benches, near one of the ‘AI’ lobby entrances, and gives final words of encouragement to wavering MPs.

She embraces Solicitor General Sarah Sackman and disability campaigner Mary Tidball, who revealed during the debate that she was supporting the legislation after long consideration.

Sir Keir Starmer arrived in the chamber with Welsh Secretary Joe Stevens and his Parliamentary Private Secretary Chris Ward, both of whom voted in favour.

He heads to the opposition benches to have a long and heated conversation with Reform’s Nigel Farage. He was later joined by Conservative stalwart David Davis.

MPs who applied through the ‘AI’ lobby find out at the end of the voting that they have won.

Thanks to a relatively recent innovation, a screen updates in real time with the number of people voting that way.

It is surprising that there is complete silence in the Commons when the announcers are coming to announce the results.

House of Commons leader Lucy Powell had to stand on the right side to signal to Sarah Owen, one of those who said ‘aye’, that Leadbeater’s bill had passed.

Before the debate, Sir Keir had not said how he would vote, although given his past record there was an assumption he would be in favour.

A Labor MP opposing the bill says it may have been a factor in the way some members of his party voted.

“You can’t underestimate the power of getting the Prime Minister involved in your division’s lobby, even if it was an independent vote,” he says.

“And a lot of people were curious to see which way the wind was blowing overall.”

Everyone in the support camp outside the Parliament is glued to their phones waiting for the results.

Time delays mean some people get the news before others. A calm wave turns into a loud roar.

Huge smiles and long hugs are exchanged between the supporters.

“I just freaked out,” says Katie.

Others are thinking about dead relatives. “Grandma must have been supporting us,” says Kate. “She didn’t want others to suffer like she did.”

Iona’s mother died when she was 13 years old. “This was not the death she wanted,” she says, adding that her mother would have been very proud of Friday’s outcome.

There is joy, relief, but also the understanding that this is just the first step in a long parliamentary process.

Katy also says there needs to be an effort to address people’s concerns about the bill.

As the preachers celebrate, the bells of St. Margaret’s Church begin to chime.

Of course, this has nothing to do with votes. A couple has just been married and are leaving the church.

But for the supporting camp, it feels symbolic, and they cheer with every bell.

On the other side of Parliament Square, Anna stands alone.

Her eyes are full of tears and she is having difficulty speaking. “I feel like a line was crossed today,” she says.

Jane is leaving the area. She is off to meet her daughter and feels a little more excited than Anna.

“It’s sad, but not as bad as we feared – 270 MPs voted against it,” she says. “There was some opposition.”

Matthew is still at College Green. Using a tablet computer to communicate, he says he’s thinking about other kids he went to school with who had severe disabilities.

“My friends deserve to live just as much as anyone else,” he says. “Lives like mine are at risk of gradually being devalued. (The bill) opens a very dangerous door.”

As he talks, the vans have arrived and bits and pieces of the campaign are being packed around him.

A 10-foot puppet judge lies face down on the floor, his finger pointing to the sky.