Chapter 5

Once inside the club, Arthur was shown to the backstage area. I wasn't allowed to go with him and was directed to find a seat out front. The club was filled with small tables, each with two chairs and a small lamp. I found an empty one to the side and sat down facing the stage. A moment later, a waitress came to me and asked if I wanted a drink.

"Just a lemonade, please," I requested. The drink arrived in minutes and I paid with a note.

The compere appeared on the stage and announced the next performer—not Arthur. I checked my watch which showed me it was twenty minutes before eight. Arthur would be on next. I sipped my drink and tried not to bite my nails as I imagined him backstage, nervous, alone, probably working himself up into a panic as he thought about taking the stage for the first time. I hoped and prayed he would be okay and that he could do it. He'd be devastated if he failed.

The current comedian wasn't that good. He drew a few chuckles and claps from the half-full club, but his spirits seemed to sink halfway through his performance, and he left the stage with his head down. The compere came back on a moment later.

"Next we have another newcomer; a local party clown who says his life is a comedy, and that he was put on earth to bring joy and laughter to the world." The compere snorted slightly. "Please welcome Arthur Fleck."

I clapped in welcome, as did a handful of other people. Then silence fell as Arthur walked onto the stage. He'd taken off his jacket, and he clutched his rolled-up notebook in one hand. He looked terrified as he stepped into the spotlight behind the microphone. I smiled up at him, but I doubted he'd be able to see me in the darkened club.

"Come on, Arthur, you can do this," I whispered.

"Good evening. It's a p-pleasure to be here," Arthur managed to say. "Then he began to laugh. He tried to stop it and attempted to speak a few times, but his nerves clearly got the better of him. My heart sank as he gasped and spluttered, then gave in and laughed more and more wildly, notebook tucked under his arm and both hands clamped over his mouth in a futile effort to suppress the hysteria.

"Oh no," I muttered.

"Get off! Freak!" someone called out.

"You're supposed to make us laugh, loser!" another voice shouted.

"There's a place for you in Arkham, buddy!" a third person added, and laughed at his own joke. A couple of other people chuckled.

Arthur fled the stage, still laughing, and disappeared. I jumped out of my seat and hurried back to the entrance, the sound of booing following me. Poor Arthur. He must be so upset.

I found him outside the club, pacing back and forth, tearing at his hair. He had neither his jacket nor his notebook with him and he looked distraught. Bursts of laughter continued to issue from him, while tears rolled down his cheeks at the same time.

"Arthur. Come here. It's all right." I grabbed his arm to stop his pacing.

"It's not all right. I failed. I'm a failure. Look at me. How could anyone ever think this is funny? I'm useless!" He laughed loudly and scrubbed at his tears. "I should have listened to my therapist. She told me I was delusional. I must be, to think I could ever entertain anyone." His laughing gave way to sobs.

"I'm so sorry, Arthur." I slid my arms around him and tugged him against me. After a brief resistance, he pressed closer and wrapped his arms around me, face tucked into my hair and tears dripping down my neck. I stroked his hair and his back, murmuring nonsense words of comfort as I tried to calm him.

Eventually, he pulled away from me and wiped his face on his shirt sleeve. "I left my jacket somewhere," he said hoarsely.

"I'll find it. Wait here." I headed back into the club and made for the backstage area. A member of staff quickly stopped me. "I'm with one of the performers, Arthur Fleck. He left a brown suit jacket here. And a notebook."

"I'll check. Just a minute."

I waited while he disappeared backstage, and a minute later returned with Arthur's jacket and notebook. I took them and headed back outside. Arthur stood where I'd left him, rubbing his arms in the biting November wind.

"I'm sorry about before." He slid his arms into the jacket and buttoned it. Then he took the notebook from me and tossed it into a nearby dumpster. "No point keeping that now. I need to go home."

"Okay." I walked with him to the station. A couple of times I tried talking to him, but he barely answered, lost in his own world of sadness and embarrassment. He sat in silence on the train, hands pressed together between his knees and head down. I wanted to hold his hand, or talk, but I didn't know what to say. I hoped my presence was some small comfort, but he didn't seem aware of me being there. When the train reached our stop, he got up and climbed off without waiting to see if I followed.

I hurried after him and walked at his side as we made our way up the steps to our street. When we stood in the lift, waiting for it to lumber up to Arthur's floor, he stared at his feet.

"Arthur." I tried to get his attention. "I know this didn't turn out the way you hoped, but it doesn't mean there won't be another chance to try. Your nerves got the better of you, that's all. You're very funny."

"You're just trying to make me feel better. Thank you, but I would save your breath." He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry I spoiled your evening. We were going to have coffee."

"It doesn't matter. We can do that another time."

"Maybe." He darted out of the lift when the doors opened. "Goodnight, Audra." Before I could answer or do anything to stop him, he'd reached his apartment door. He unlocked it quickly, slipped inside, and slammed it closed behind him.

"Shit," I muttered. The lift lumbered on up to my floor. There was no point in me knocking on Arthur's door now. He wasn't in the mood for company and I knew he would be feeling mortified for being what he thought was a failure in my eyes. Not only did he not perform, but he had the worst episode I'd seen right after it. He probably wanted to hide and avoid me. All I could do was give him some space and hope he'd come to me or start following me again. Maybe in a day or two, I'd call on him.

I tried to stay away—I really did—but I worried about Arthur so much I found myself at his door the next afternoon, knocking and waiting until five minutes had passed and I assumed he wasn't home, or he was ignoring me. I spent some time with Sophie instead, but I didn't tell her what happened, even though she commented on how distracted I was a couple of times.

On Monday I was back at work and I hoped fervently for that feeling of being watched or followed, but it didn't happen. Nor did Arthur come to the shelter or wait outside for me to finish work. That evening I went to his apartment again and I guessed he was in because I could hear the television, but he didn't answer the door when I knocked several times.

As hard as it was, I stayed away for the rest of the week, worrying about him and hoping he would come to me. I didn't see anything of him and on Saturday when I gave in and knocked again, I heard only silence from his apartment, and I didn't know whether he was there or not.

"What's going on with you?" Sophie asked me on Sunday evening, when we had dinner together.

"Nothing, why?"

"You're not like you. You seem really miserable."

"I'm not exactly the life and soul of the party anyway."

"But you're not like you usually are. It's like someone kicked the stuffing out of you."

I huffed out a breath. "I'm worried about Arthur," I admitted.

"Did something happen?" Her eyes widened.

"A week ago, he tried performing at Pogo's. It went badly and he was upset. Ever since then, he hasn't spoken to me. I think he's too embarrassed. He suffers from depression on top of everything else, and I know he's hurt himself in the past. I guess I'm worried he might do something to himself."

"I wish I could help with that, but I don't know what to suggest. I think you know him better than me. I suppose you could check with his work if he's still there. He's a clown, right? There can't be many companies in the city that do that sort of thing."

"Yeah, I suppose I could do that." The next day was one of my days off, and I thought I would look for the place Arthur might work at. Or better still, I would do what Arthur did. I would lurk and wait for him to appear.

The next morning, I hung out in the stairwell just below Arthur's floor, but after three hours I realised this was silly and futile. The lift only moved once in that time and when I peered out of the window to check who left the building, it was a woman with a child. I chastised myself for being a stalker and gave up. If he wanted me, he knew where I was. I couldn't go on the way I was, with my stupid illusions of someday dating him. I should be the one seeing a therapist. I laughed at myself and determined to leave him alone until he approached me, if he ever did.

That Friday, I decided to do something to treat myself and take my mind off Arthur. I'd tried to stop thinking about him but hadn't been able to despite my resolve. After dinner, I took a bath and put on a red woollen dress I'd bought that week, along with thick black hold-up stockings and boots. There was a new movie showing at the theatre and I decided to go and see it. I'd even get popcorn and make it a proper date with myself.

I checked myself in the bathroom mirror and put on a smear of lipstick after I brushed my hair. Might as well look nice. It would make me feel good. I was about to put on my coat, when a knock on the door startled me. Perhaps it was Sophie. Maybe she'd come to the movies with me—it would be nice to go with a friend. I realised I should have invited her earlier.

I unhooked the chain and opened the door. Then my mouth dropped open. Arthur stood there, wearing a bright red suit, yellow waistcoat, and green shirt, apparently all new. His hair was brushed and glossy, and he held a bunch of orange roses. Orange? I didn't know what orange meant. I'd have to look it up.

"Hello, Audra." He smiled, bright and cheerful, eyes sparkling. He offered me the flowers and I took them, struck dumb. "Are you busy? I'd like to take you out."

"Um—" I cleared my throat. "Thank you for the flowers. I'd, um, I'd like to go out very much. What did you have in mind?"

"Dinner? Have you eaten yet?"

"Only a snack. Just give me a minute to put these in water." Heart pounding, I took the roses to the kitchen and put them in a vase. What could have happened? He was so unlike himself; so confident and happy looking. I grabbed my coat and went back to the door where he waited, hands in his pockets, casual and relaxed. I locked the door and pocketed the key.

Arthur pulled his hands out of his pockets and grasped my hand in his. "There's a nice-looking Chinese restaurant three blocks down," he said. "You once said you like Chinese food."

"Do you like it?" I asked, even more surprised.

"I don't know, but I'll enjoy trying it. Let's go." He squeezed my hand as we stepped into the lift.

"You seem different."

"I was looking forward to seeing you."

"I was worried about you. I haven't seen anything of you for two weeks."

"I just needed to be on my own. I had some things to sort out."

"How are you feeling now?"

"Fine. Good. Better than usual." We left the building and Arthur strode along, drawing me with him.

"Arthur." I stopped walking and pulled him to a halt. "I've never seen you like this. Has something changed? Have they changed your meds or something?"

He laughed, not hysterically, but normally. "That must be it."

"Okay."

"Come on. Let's go or we might not get a table. I should have booked, but I wanted to make sure you wanted to go first." Arthur started to walk again, tugging me along with him.

I walked quicker to keep up. If his medication had been changed, maybe that's what he'd been dealing with during the time I hadn't seen him. It could have taken a week or two to get used to the change. I was still surprised by how utterly different he seemed, not that it was a bad thing. I liked that he was confident and appeared happy.

When we reached the restaurant, Arthur held the door for me, then went to the desk and asked for a table for two. We were shown to a corner table in an alcove and handed menus. A waiter took my coat and went to hang it up.

"You look lovely tonight," Arthur said, smiling appreciatively across the table. "We match, too. Is that a new dress?"

"Yes, I treated myself this week."

"Me too." He grinned and indicated the suit. "Most of my things are old and boring."

"You look very smart. I like the green shirt," I said. "You look good in green."

The waiter returned and offered us drinks. I selected a white wine I liked, and Arthur said he would have the same. When the two glasses arrived, he held his up and clinked mine. "To a wonderful evening together. Um, a first date, maybe?"

"To a first date," I agreed, still stunned. I wouldn't have been surprised if I woke up sometime soon and realised I'd dreamed it all.

Arthur took a sip of his wine and put the glass down. "I like this. I've never had wine."

"I don't have it often. It's a treat."

He smiled wider and reached across the table to cover my hand with his. I turned mine palm up and held his hand. His eyes sparkled.

"You look very happy," I remarked.

"I'm happy to see you."

"Is there anything else? You're not like you usually are."

"Well, I performed at Pogo's earlier."

My eyebrows rose. "You did?"

"Yes, I got the first slot. They have a different compere on today, so he didn't realise I'd been before and bombed. There were only a dozen people in the audience, but I—" He paused and cleared his throat. "Well, I smashed it. That sounds very boastful, doesn't it?"

"It sounds very confident," I corrected. "Weren't you nervous?"

"No. I remembered what you said about it being what I really wanted, so I just went and did it. I'm sorry I didn't invite you. There wasn't time. I wanted to go and do it before I could change my mind. I didn't laugh once, but everyone else did."

"That's wonderful. I'm so pleased for you." I began to relax, although my pulse was still rapid, and I couldn't quite get my breath. I felt a little swept off my feet. "Arthur, what do orange roses mean?" I asked.

"You don't know? Well." He grinned and leaned across the table, dropping his voice to a whisper. "Orange is for desire."

I wasn't often lost for words, and with anyone else, I'd have been able to respond easily. But I was so unused to Arthur being like this. It seemed only yesterday that he was terrified of asking me for a coffee in case I rejected him. Now he was blatantly flirting, and I didn't know how to deal with it.

Arthur smiled. "Let's look at the menus. You might have to help me. I've never had Chinese food."

I selected some chicken and beef dishes with both rice and noodles so we could share each item. When the food arrived, the Arthur I was used to emerged again and he ate slowly and deliberately as if he struggled with each bite, but he cleared his plate. I deliberately ate slowly and sipped my wine every few minutes so that I didn't finish too much before him. We didn't order a dessert and Arthur paid the bill with a flourish, refusing to let me pay half.

We walked back to the apartments hand in hand. My heart fluttered as Arthur walked close beside me, the back of his hand brushing my thigh. I wondered if he would want to kiss me, or if his newfound courage would desert him at that point. I wanted to kiss him, I realised. I wanted to kiss him very much, but I'd wanted to kiss the shy, insecure Arthur some time ago. His new demeanour and his admission he desired me hadn't made that happen suddenly.

The lift trundled upwards slowly, passing Arthur's floor and continuing to mine. I hadn't realised he'd selected my floor instead of his own and I wondered if he was going to escort me to my door and leave it at that.

"Would you like to come in for coffee?" I asked as I unlocked the door.

"I'd like that, thank you." He followed me in and closed the door. "Let me take your coat."

I shrugged it off and he hung it on the peg by the door, then hung his jacket beside it. I took a step towards the kitchen, but Arthur caught my hand and pulled me back.

"Wait." He cleared his throat, gaze darting around and avoiding mine. I was more used to this and I smiled up at him.

"Arthur?"

"Audra—" He took a breath, then cupped my face in both hands and placed his lips on mine.