Am sitting in my mum’s cute maisonette as the headline “Activists Accuse Farm Club of Speciesism” leaps out of the Saturday newspaper cutting through the pulsing vocal throb of love longing and lost from the radio in the lounge and more plaintive human wailing of love loss longing and desire from the radio in the kitchen, “Senorita… I love it when you call me Senorita….” “When your body has had enough of me….” “When you are in Love with a beautiful woman….” “I’m in love with the shape of you”