If anyone wants to know what the worst thing about diving is, it’s getting wet,” says Tom Daley, dispensing the sort of twist you’d usually expect from him in the synchronised 10 metres. “Like, every day just getting cold and wet. I know that’s part of the job, but that’s the worst thing.”
Daley is talking to me via Zoom from his tasteful south London kitchen (all reclaimed wood and jaunty fridge magnet souvenirs from his travels around the world), which he shares with his husband, the writer and director Dustin Lance Black, and their four-year-old son, Robbie. The 28-year-old is bright-eyed, bushy haired and bouncy, a man utterly relaxed in his own skin.
