No More Turning a Blind Eye (Clara)

Jacques watched Clara, taking the news with some grace, but he wasn't sure she was accepting of Mimosa's possible condition. The almost instant idea of eliminating the possibility showed Jacques that the older witch was not believing his fears. But that was okay, denial was a coping technique, and seeing as Clara was not currently hurling verbal nonsense, or physical items at him, Jacques could tell she wasn't volatile about this.

Unlike Mr Harrington.

"I'll make arrangements with the right people for the tests." Jacques offered in a manner that left no room for argument, though he was not his father, Jacques did want to ensure that Mimosa got the best from the many specialists she would be seeing. "I can't come over when Mimosa will be here, the Palace..." The young man's jaw twitched, because he didn't like to say the sentence. "I will be needed at the Palace, and my absence would not be a welcome idea. I'll make sure I make up for it after the festive season has finished, though." Jacques added the last more for his own benefit. Guilt was not something he wished to harbour, but not being there for Mimosa when she would need him was something that was occurring much too often as of late.

With huge relief, Jacques finished up the gloop of food in another mouthful, almost sure he could feel the radiation from the microwave burning his insides. But, he reflected, that was his mind playing havoc with the horrible food he'd been presented.

"Like I said, there's never truly a competition." Jacques replied to her sincere hope he would do well in the competition for a better man.

There was a pause, in which Jacques looked down at the empty plate, littered with the grease of the meal that he should not have eaten. "Clara..." The boy stated, uneasy in his mannerisms now because he was about to ask the woman before him something that did not sit well at all. "If you need anything, for these tests, please ask. But... don't send the request to the Palace."

Reaching in to his suit pocket, Jacques extracted a small card, which he'd placed his university address on. "Please, can you send all information here?" He asked, holding it out to Clara. It went without saying, Jacques hoped, that the Lord and Lady Clement did not know he was here. And, until Jacques had the opportunity to speak to his Maman face to face, they would not know, either.

Jacques let out a soft laugh at the mention of Mimosa being spoiled. "I would go with deeply loved, not spoiled. She could always have more." Jacques countered, though it was only half of a joke, in truth. The young witch might not want for very much, but she could definitely have been given more over the years -- something that had become increasingly apparent in the last five months.

The question of his parents brought a wry smile to Jacques' lips. Of course, Clara would know how to pick up on the signs that Jacques was not entirely comfortable in that moment. She had a mothering nature to her, and much like his own Maman, she knew when there was something amiss.

"They don't currently know I am here." Jacques replied honestly to the question. Though, of course, his Papa didn't know about Mimosa's condition -- or, if he did, Jacques had not been made aware of that. "With them being away, I didn't think it necessary to trouble Maman with the details. But, I intend to tell her about all of it when we're both back at the Palace. A letter is much too impersonal for such a conversation."

And that, in Jacques mind, would explain why he was here, and why he had not told Clara the reason for his visit in his letter. Some things had to be delivered in person.

The counter to Jacques' request made the young Frenchman pause for a moment. Clara was very forthcoming, not one to amble around the subject, and though Jacques had been more accustomed to ladies who did amble around the subject, he was much more grateful for the no nonsense approach.

Ah, Mr Harrington. On this compromise, Jacques was quite willing to bend his usual rule of not giving in to things too easily.

"You have my word, Mr Harrington won't hear of this from me." Jacques agreed with the older witch with a small smile on his lips. No, in the case where Kenneth Harrington had to be told of his Granddaughter's condition, Jacques was more than happy to leave that much to Clara.

The offer of M&Ms made Jacques lightly frown for a moment. How in Merlin's name was that a good excuse for a 'dessert'? But, almost as quickly as the frown had touched his features, a somewhat painful knot in his stomach answered for him. "Thank you, but no thank you, Clara. The lasagna was quite filling. Perhaps next time, though." Jacques declined the offer politely.

"And," Jacques glanced at the clock, adding on a few hours to get himself back to European time. "I had better head back to England. I have a few errands to run before I am done for the day." Which, wasn't strictly true, but Jacques didn't wish to be anywhere near Clara when her lasagna decided it would no longer stay down.

Getting up from the bar stool, Jacques fixed his jacket button back in to place before moving round to Clara and enveloping her in his arms. "Thank you for your hospitality, Clara. And, thank you for listening to what I had to say. We'll be in touch shortly, I'm sure." He said as he moved back from the hug. "Until then." He finalised, giving a small curt nod as a sign of respect to the older woman.

And, with that, Jacques apparated away from the Harrington Home.

The Harrington Home, however, would not leave Jacques system until the next morning, through an agony of stomach cramps and a sleepless night.

Mimosa, though, the Frenchman reflected in the early hours of the morning as he sat on the bathroom floor, was worth all the pain in the world, if it helped her in the long run.