A whistling butcher is probably not anything particularly abnormal, she told herself. After all there are plenty of singing butchers, butchers who tell you jokes, butchers who tell you their life stories. But this one, with his little striped apron and his long legs in very short shorts, big feet with footy socks, blue singlet under the apron to match the blue denim shorts, the muscular arms and legs shining, hairless, olive skinned.