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‘Haven’t heard. I hope so; I like her. She’s a bit stately—I think she finds us Kiwis really casual—but she’s lovely. And she always brings presents for the children; nothing expensive, just thoughtfully chosen. I suspect she wants grandchildren.’ Molly gave a comfortable laugh. ‘She might have a wait on her hands because Caid doesn’t seem ready to settle down yet. I know he doesn’t turn up much in the newspapers, but I did read a snip about him and a high-powered magazine editor last year, and did you see the photo of him with that film star? Leila Sherif? She looked besotted. I wonder if she’ll be here this summer.’
Repressing a snake-slither of jealousy, Sanchia said, ‘Perhaps.’ She had no right to be jealous.
‘She won’t if Mrs Hunter’s coming,’ Molly decided. ‘He doesn’t usually bring his girlfriends when his mother’s in residence. Rather old-fashioned and nice of him, when you think of it.’
‘He might be scared of her,’ Sanchia suggested frivolously.
‘Oh, for sure,’ Molly scoffed, laughing. ‘I can just see him shivering in his handmade shoes when she frowns at him. He’s no mummy’s boy. You didn’t know his father, did you?’
‘No.’
‘Well, Caid’s a real chip off the old block—tough as they come but fair with it. A good boss, although he gets his money’s worth. I suppose he’ll get married one day, but I doubt if it will be to please his mother.’
‘Not many men do that,’ Sanchia said drily, and steered the conversation to her hostess’s children, a topic Molly indulged to the full with a willing listener.
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