A day of prayers, heartfelt tales and pin-drop moments

It was a mark of how earnestly MPs approached the assisted dying bill that, I can reveal, some of the most firmly secular members of the House of Commons stood up during the private morning prayers rather than, as some do, sitting down in order to bag a seat without taking part in a religious ceremony.

- JOE MURPHY

It was, quite simply, that sort of day. A day, in the words of the ancient appeal for guidance recited behind closed doors by the speaker's chaplain, for "laying aside all private interests and prejudices” to better “improve the condition of all mankind”. A day to respect other people’s faiths. To respect other lives, and the deaths of strangers.

Prayers over, just after 9.30am, the doors opened to reveal a House that was packed like a Budget day, despite Fridays being typically reserved for backbench legislation and constituency awaydays. Some 45 minutes into the debate, I counted 35 MPs standing up at the back. Mr Speaker informed us that 160 members had asked to speak. The vote, it was said, could go either way. It was a day that speeches would really matter.

The debate was not always easy listening. We heard stories of cancer patients whose last breath was the inhalation of faecal vomit. Of a terminally ill former police officer who faced months of pain timing his suicide at 2am for when the last train was running, so as to minimise disruption to the public.

At the beginning, Labour MP Rachel Hopkins moved for the debate to be held in private, which was loudly voted down. If she feared disruption from the public gallery, she needn’t have. The onlookers above looked every bit as sober as the lawmakers below.

The floor was handed to Labour backbencher Kim Leadbeater, to move the second reading. “I know this is not easy,” she told her colleagues. “But if any of us wanted an easy life, I’m afraid we are in the wrong place.”