Life after: confronting a killer

If there is such a thing as righteous anger, surely it’s that of a mother after the senseless snatching away of her child’s life. Joan Scourfield lived that experience. Her son died from a single punch on a night that began like thousands of others across the UK.

Her son James had been on an ordinary Saturday night out in Nottingham in 2011, when a dispute kicked off over something as small as a pair of snatched sunglasses. But it quickly escalated. Someone threw a punch, James went down, hitting his head on the ground, and that was it: nine days later, James – a 28-year-old volunteer and aspiring paramedic – was pronounced dead.

For a long time afterwards, Joan simply wanted answers. A way to make sense of it all. How could this horrible person do this to her son? Why James? Had he provoked his assailant? Did he hit him first? She knew nothing: just a name – Jacob Dunne – and a mugshot. Nothing else.

“In court, we didn’t even get to hear Jacob’s side. We had no idea why he’d done it or anything… so you end up more angry and bitter because you’ve not got any of your questions answered,” says Joan, a retired assistant nurse who now lives in Derby.

Fast forward to today and Joan can be found sharing public platforms with her son’s killer, advising young people how to avoid the same fate as her boy. The story of that fateful night has even made its way onto the stage, in a play called (what else?) Punch.

Despite the title, the show, which is based on a book written by Jacob and has played on both Broadway and in London’s West End, turns out to be less about the punch itself and more about the events that followed it. The most visible of these is the remarkable life transformation in Jacob, a gang member who, after serving 14 months in prison (less than half the 30-month custodial sentence he was given for manslaughter), went on to study criminology. Today, he advocates for criminal justice reform.

The first time he walked into that room, it was a vulnerable young man that met me, not that evil mugshot we’d seen

But at its heart, Punch is a story of forgiveness. About five years on from James’s death, Joan found it in her heart to forgive the man who took his life. It was a gradual process, she admits. It started with her and her former husband reaching out to Jacob after his release from prison. Back then, all she wanted was answers.

Over time, however, she began to learn more about him, to see the man beyond the crime. Their contact was coordinated through the restorative justice charity The Forgiveness Project. Initially, Jacob provided them with written responses to their questions, but eventually they began meeting in person through mediated sessions.

“The first time he walked into that room, it was a vulnerable young man that met me, not that evil mugshot we’d seen,” Joan remembers. “He was very calm, very placid, and he wanted to speak to us, to answer our questions.”

Seeing Jacob slowly turn his life around was part of her own journey to forgiveness. If he’d proved unrepentant, the outcome would probably have been different. As important to Joan, however, was her desire to move on in her own life. Her anger, she realised, was in danger of morphing into bitterness; bitterness at Jacob for what he did, but also bitterness towards a justice system that she felt had let them down (Joan and her husband appealed Jacob’s 30-month sentence, but lost). Holding onto that bitterness, she resolved, “would not end well”.

Most of all, though, it was thoughts of James that got her to that point of saying “I forgive you”. She recalled the joy he took from doing voluntary work, especially with children from tough backgrounds. If working alongside Jacob could build on that legacy, she figured, then it would bring “something positive” out of her terrible loss and pain.

We had no idea why he’d done it so you end up more angry and bitter because you’ve not got any of your questions answered

The process since hasn’t been plain sailing, she admits. She’s been trolled online for “betraying” her son, for instance, a sentiment that she confesses to having battled with herself at certain points. Nor is her forgiveness absolute: she talks very deliberately of forgiving Jacob for killing James (“he didn’t mean to do it”), but not for throwing the punch (“because he went with intent”).

And for those who are struggling to forgive someone: what would be her advice? If at all possible, find a way to talk it out, she says. It’s hard. She’s been there: she knows. But really, it’s the only way. Bringing in a third party can certainly help, she adds. Both sides can then feel listened to and heard, which is crucial to working through the hurt.

One aspect of forgiveness she didn’t expect was how it keeps giving. Not only has Jacob turned his back on violence, but one of his former gang mates has followed him. “So that’s two lives that I know about that have been turned around,” she reflects.

Their story is now told on stages in London and New York in the play Punch, but for Joan the real work happens away from the theatre lights. And James, the aspiring paramedic who spent his short life helping others: what would he think? Joan smiles: “I think he’d be amazed.”

Main image: David Severn