The Ms.

Clara felt a tap on her shoulder, looked up, and was faced with the most stunningly beautiful woman she had ever seen. She had hair the colour of dark chocolate, a nose that seemed to be sniffing dangerously close to perfection, and green eyes, seemingly flecked with gold.
"Hello, Clara," she said, "my name is Blossom Lenvere. Harmony said I'd find you here."

*

"And Harmony, dear, don't forget to mind the garden, make sure it doesn't get into too much trouble."

"Yes'm." Harmony gazed up at Ms. Lenvere adoringly. 

Clara continued to look at the floor. Ugly, concrete. 

Shaking her distracting hair, Ms. continued: "I'm sure the vines will want a bit of attention.."

And even from here, Clara could clearly see the spiderwebs that covered the chandelier. "..and so will the butterflies.." not that it actually revolted her, they gave it a very dream-like quality, but the light which flooded the room seemed distinctly nauseating. ".. and my dear old Baobab seems to have gotten in quite a temper recently (don't give me that look, switching emotions is an extremely lengthy process for trees, dear), but, if you are lucky, she will be asleep for most of the time." Oh, no. Exactly. Nausea. Clara held her breath. "That's really all I can think of, I'm sure you two will be just fine. If there is anything, however, you can reach me by phone - I left the number inside the topmost left drawer in the black cupboard." That didn't help. She closed her eyes instead. Better. "Well, then. Be good, Harmonica. Clara, it was a pleasure meeting you. Oh, here, sweetie, take this." Clara felt Ms. Lenvere's fingers press something into her hand. Keeping her eyes closed, she muttered a thank you(, and did a clumsy half-curtsy?). 

"Farewell, miss! We'll be waiting!" Harmony burst out, as if she'd been impatient for Ms. to finish talking, which, come to think of it, she probably had.
"Yes. Yes, goodbye. I must go." Ms. Lenvere gave both girls a brief glance and hurried out the door, into the pale day. The heavy door closed, leaving them standing in the quiet, vast hall. 

"Flowerpot?" Harmony gave Clara a nudge.

"Don't call me that," she muttered.

"Open your eyes."

Clara did, and immediately felt like her stomach was trying to waltz, so she closed them again.

"No, no, keep them open."

"I'd rather not." Clara shook her head lightly.

"Clara, I mean it. Look." Harmony pried open her hand, and Clara noticed only now that it had been clenched. She looked down. Resting in her palm was a vividly blue stone, set in a round, intricate silver locket on a silver chain. The nausea dissipated instantly. 

"I knew it." Harmony gave one of her trademark grins.

"She.. Ms. Lenvere.. She couldn't possibly have-"

"Yep, she did. This is yours. Here." Harmony took the necklace and fastened it around Clara's neck. "They're very good to have in a place like this."

*

Ms. Lenvere looked on as the youth swiftly opened the new packet of tobacco, found papers and filters, and expertly rolled two cigarettes. He presented one with a smile and a bow, lit the other and proceeded on his way, leaving Ms. Lenvere in the alley, holding "one of those sticks they burn in their mouths". She looked at it for a moment, contemplating, hesitant - then fished a dainty little silver lighter from her pocket and lit it. Inhaling, she closed her eyes, and blew the smoke out slowly. Then she let out a little cough and said "I don't know how you humans can do this stuff." She took another drag, made a face, then put the cigarette out whilst exhaling and walked off, abandoning it on the side of a trashcan for some hobo to find.