Inside Kim Leadbeater’s office in Parliament, helium balloons reading ‘five’ and ‘zero’ are gently deflating. They celebrate her recent birthday in Harrogate but also evoke a poignant memory: ten years ago, her sister Jo Cox was the star guest, arriving late from Parliament and embracing the party spirit in a neon tutu.
“We had so much fun that weekend,” Kim recalls. “Jo wasn’t an MP, she was just Jo. We’d rented a big house in North Yorkshire, and we were in 80s fancy dress. Jo wore a tutu, and we sang ‘I Know Him So Well’ together.” Kim’s 40th birthday was on May 1, 2016. Six weeks later, Jo was murdered by a far-right extremist while holding a constituency surgery.
The family went from watching the England-Wales Euros game to a nightmare. “I haven’t been able to grieve,” Kim says now. “We just had to keep going forward. I needed to be there for my parents and Jo’s kids. Even now, if I stop to grieve, I might fall apart.”
A Decade On: Worsening Divisions
Ten years on, Jo’s murder has not been the watershed many hoped. In June 2026, far-right agitators have exploited violence in Belfast, Glasgow, and Southampton. “When Jo was killed, it should have been the end – and the start of something different,” Kim says. “But at this moment, things are worse than ever. I understand anger, but we have a choice. I chose not to hate everyone who looked like the man who killed my sister.”
Stepping Into Jo’s Shoes
Kim now occupies an office in Portcullis House, five years after stepping into her sister’s role as MP for Spen Valley. The family has championed Jo’s ‘More In Common’ message through campaigns like The Great Get Together. But this tenth year feels different. “Every day is awful without Jo,” Kim says. “We’ve done a powerful job remembering the good, but we haven’t talked about the fact she was killed by a right-wing fascist neo-Nazi. I want to talk about the context this year.”
Assisted Dying Bill and Personal Values
Kim is widely known for her Assisted Dying Bill, which has required her to live by the values she and Jo shared. “I try to find common ground,” she says. “Jo and I were brought up like that.” The bill means she is regularly stopped by people wanting to discuss death. “It is hard, but it’s a human issue. We don’t talk about death enough.” When asked if Jo’s death influenced her passion, Kim says, “It’s about choice. Jo didn’t have a choice.”
Memories and Parallel Worlds
The June sunshine and World Cup echo 2016. “I can’t really remember that time,” Kim admits. “It’s a blur. I was on autopilot.” The family threw themselves into positive projects: the loneliness strategy, White Helmets, More in Common, the Jo Cox Foundation, runs, and bike rides. “It’s been the worst of humanity followed by the best.”
This week, Kim gave a lecture at Jo’s Cambridge college and spoke at Downing Street. She said, “Perhaps the greatest tribute we can pay to Jo is not merely to repeat her words, but to live by them.” Reflecting on their similarities, Kim notes Jo was shy while she was more confident. Seeing a copy of Vogue on her desk, she laughs, “Jo would have found it hilarious! I’m wearing charity shop clothes.”
Kim often imagines a parallel world where Jo survived. “She might have persuaded me to stand for the neighbouring seat. We’d both represent our home. It makes me happy to think about that.” She looks out at tourists on the Thames. “But I have gone on my own journey instead.”
