NOTHING HAPPENED

It was a usual evening in early October.
John was upstairs sitting at the computer
and Anthea was downstairs watching Casualty
and playing Pet Rescue Saga on her iPad.
Nobody had been to the house that day
and they hadn't been anywhere else
because it rained. At one in the afternoon
the telephone had rung, but no-one
had answered in time. It did not matter.
The answer machine confirmed it had been
a sales call on behalf of a double glazing agent.
For lunch they had eaten cheese
and pickled onion sandwiches and afterwards
John had made them both a cup of tea
with milk. The dog had been walked
before it got dark and was sleeping in his basket.
Anthea completed a level. John read news.
At 11 p.m. they went to bed.

THE OTHER TOM DALEY

for JD

Didn't dive. Couldn't swim. Was afraid of the water.
Never put a foot in. Wouldn't look at rivers or pools. 
He never received marriage proposals on twitter.
Wasn't asked to make a calendar or sticker book
He was shy. Conscious of his weight and looks.
Wore baggy shirts and baseball caps to family dos.
He never once made a speech or spoke on television.
The local news were clueless to his mum's profession.