Tina sold her story to the Daily Express.

The Daily Express  

 

'My sister's murder inspired me to start my own business.'

Tina Jesson's sister Joyce was brutally murdered seven years ago. But in a story of real triumph over tragedy, Tina re-evaluated her whole life in the aftermath of her sister's death. She went on to start her own business and spend more time with her family. She sold her story to the Express.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Do you have a triumph over tragedy story you would like to sell to a women's magazine or newspaper? To sell your story, contact us now. Fill in our story submission form on the right, or call us direct....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I turned my life around after sister's brutal death;

When TINA JESSON's family was struck by tragedy, she reassessed her own future.

 

Interview by HANNAH BARR

 

 

I'LL NEVER forget the day I heard on the local news about the murder of a young girl. I watched the TV in disgust as the newsreader described how her body, found behind a petrol station, had been so violently attacked that she had not yet been identified.

My heart went out to that girl and her poor family.

It wasn't until mum called three days later, sounding distraught, that I had any idea that what happened involved our family.

Between her sobs, mum told me it was my 26-year-old sister Joyce Wheatley who had been murdered. My legs gave way and I sank to the kitchen floor in tears. Everything felt surreal.

For the next few days mum and I were inconsolable. Not knowing what to say or do, we just held each other, sobbing.

As we set about informing the family, it suddenly dawned on me that I no longer knew Joyce's close friends. I was filled with regret. Joyce and I had been so close when we were younger and I was still living at home with her and mum.

My own dad had left before I was born and my mum then had a relationship with Joyce's dad, who left when Joyce was little.

Ever since then it had been mum, Joyce and me as a strong unit of three.

Being 10 years older than Joyce, I had taken great pride in protecting her when she was little. She suffered from learning difficulties and I would fend off anybody who dared bully her.

She had looked up to me and would follow me everywhere.

When I left home at 18 we drifted apart as she was still so young and I wanted to have my independence. The gap between us grew even wider after Joyce grew up and left home too. Our lives had simply moved in different directions.

I settled down with my husband David in Nottingham and Joyce moved to Derby. But even though she was now an adult, it wasn't easy to have a relationship with her. While she had the body of an adult she still had the mind of an 11-year-old and that created a distance between us. Joyce remained as innocent and free as a child, while I had all the challenges and strains of life as a working mother and wife to deal with.

Determined to have her independence, Joyce had got a flat and started a job as a waitress in Derby. She also found a new set of friends through the mental health organisation MIND. We spoke occasionally on the phone and mum would also update me on what Joyce was up to. I always told myself I would make time to pay her a visit as soon as my own life was less hectic.

Within a week of hearing about Joyce's death in May 2001, the police arrested six of her assailants, whom we discovered were supposed to have been her friends. Like Joyce, they had learning difficulties but it was horrific for me and mum to learn that those she had trusted had turned on her.

The coroner's investigation took six months and I spent those days turning over what had happened in my mind, berating myself for not having phoned or gone to visit her.

In November 2001, with the coroner's investigation complete, we held Joyce's funeral but I felt we couldn't have full closure until her assailants were held accountable for their actions.

In the months leading up to the court case, all I could think about was Joyce and how I wasn't there for her. I became really overprotective of my two children, Daniel, then nine, and Emma, seven. I wouldn't let them out of my sight because I was scared something awful would happen to them, too.

THE COURT case began in June 2002 and I took time off from my job as an IT risk manager to attend with mum.

The ages of the six defendants ranged from 17 to 50. Initially they were on trial for murder but the charge was dropped to manslaughter. This was because the coroner said Joyce's death might or might not have been caused by a direct blow to the head and our lawyers warned that if we pressed for murder, they might walk away without being convicted.

During the two week trial I tried to stay strong for mum but it was difficult for both of us. The gang seemed totally unrepentant. On the final day, one of the accused women even laughed in court as she awaited the verdict. Five of the six were found guilty of manslaughter and the eldest was given a custodial sentence of five years.

Justice had been served and we could get on with our lives.

But it wasn't that easy. After all we had been through my job in IT felt meaningless. I felt the corporate world had turned me into a robot who got up in the morning, fed the kids, stared at a computer screen all day and then came home to feed the kids again. Joyce's death had made one thing crystal clear: life wasn't merely about existing, it was about taking the bull by the horns and enjoying it.

I realised I no longer wanted a top corporate job with the sole aim being to climb the ranks.

Home improvement had always been an interest of mine so I left my job and set up my own interior design company, Home Stagers. It was a daunting prospect but my husband was fully supportive. And although I was taking a massive risk, I felt I didn't have anything to lose. As long as my family and close friends were fine that was all that mattered.

Before, I had compensated for not enjoying my job by taking expensive weekends away but now there was no time for holidays. It meant we barely noticed losing one wage It took 18 months before I started to make any profit and could hand over the reins to my employees for even a few days.

But it was no longer about money. Having to concentrate my efforts on something took my mind off Joyce's murder and eased the pain of her death.

Now I appreciate everything I have in my life. I run my own business, have a happy marriage, a lovely home in Ilkeston, Derbyshire, and two wonderful children who are now teenagers.

But what is most important is my changed attitude and outlook on life.

Before Joyce died I'd never encountered loss and tragedy.

Her death was the beginning of a long, soul-searching journey that spurred me into ditching my old life and doing something I truly enjoy. Everything I have now, I owe to my sister.

Having my own business has meant I can spend more time with my family. I no longer feel stressed out and bogged down by office politics and can channel my energy into other things, such as going on school trips or out for romantic dinners with David.

Today I have thankfully reached a point where I can think about Joyce without despair and regret. I no longer have nightmares about the violent way in which she met her end.

Instead I remember her as a little girl, pushing her pram around the garden, looking up at me.

I'll always regret not seeing more of Joyce before she died but thanks to her, I'll never again make the mistake of not giving time to the people I love. Her death was a tragic loss but I've made sure it wasn't all in vain.