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Maria noticed that the others were nodding in agreement as to Gabriella’s assessment of the family’s approach to life. “The vows you will exchange with Anthony will include the words ‘love, honor and obey’. It is your vow of obedience we want to explore the meaning of with you tonight, to make sure you are properly prepared to be a good wife for Anthony.” Maria was puzzled – she thought this ‘hen’s night’ was going to be all about her – a few drinks, some pampering, perhaps even some special gifts that she would be given to start her marriage off with. She’d hardly thought she’d come to discuss marriage vows. And what was all this talk about obedience? She’d almost laughed when Anthony had said they’d be using such traditional wedding vows, but he’d looked so serious she hadn’t challenged him on it at the time. Now she was beginning to wonder if that might have been a mistake. She snapped out of her reverie to focus again on what Gabriella was saying. “In our family, we believe it. "At the moment you are making an exhibition, and a fool, of yourself. Take yourself off home, and I will see you here tomorrow, clean, sober, and ready to present yourself at the interview." He stuffed the envelope into my pocket and snapped out a command."Rifleman Desmond! Brace yourself up, and get a grip. In this state you're a disgrace to yourself and the regiment." If he thought his words would bring me out of my self-pity and melancholy he was wrong."Go fuck yourself, Ledbetter." I said, and staggered out of the pub.I sat slumped, drunk and disgustingly dirty, in some dive of a pub. I don't know how I got there or even where it was. I held a double vodka in my hand, with several others already in my gut, when I saw her, a young, slim, dark haired, long legged, Miss Pouty sort of girl. She was sitting at a table with a crowd of what appeared to be druggies: unkempt young men and girls. She glanced over at me, and our eyes locked. It was unalloyed sexual magnetism, and I was.
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