Chapter 7

"I need to see him." I got to my feet.

"Please, Audra. Sit down. It's not unusual to be in denial in situations like this."

"Denial?" I shook my head. "Who are you, anyway?"

"Catherine March. Psychologist. I did introduce myself when I came to find you, but perhaps you didn't hear me."

"No, I didn't."

"Perhaps you'd like to tell me in your own words what happened."

"Sure, if it clears up this nonsense." I sat down again. "I've known Arthur a while. We were friends but he was very shy. He's always been alone. He told me he was taking a lot of medication."

"Yes, we have records."

"A couple of weeks ago he intended to perform at a comedy club, and we were to go for coffee after. Things didn't go well at the club. He got upset and we went straight home. He hid from me for a while—two weeks. I didn't see him until yesterday. Then he turned up at my door in a new suit, with flowers, asking me to go for dinner. Sure, he was different from what I was used to, but I went with it. He said he was happy because he'd been looking forward to seeing me. We had dinner, we went back to my place for coffee, and—"

"And things got out of hand?" Catherine interrupted gently.

"Not the way you mean. You don't know anything about me. You know the North Street Homeless Shelter? I work there. It's not a nice area and we get undesirables hanging around. Sometimes you'll get someone high on meths come in or bother us when we leave. I'm trained in self-defence. I always carry mace and a knife. I'm stronger than I look, and I definitely know how to get out of a hold, whatever kind it is. Arthur didn't hurt me. He wouldn't hurt one hair on my head. We kissed; things got heated. He didn't do anything I didn't want, but he panicked. I suspect he's never been with a woman before. He ran away. I went after him, but I didn't get to see him until today, and then I found him in the state he was in when the paramedics brought him in. He told me he's off his medication because the funding for his care was cut. That's why he was acting so different. I didn't think to question it. He just seemed happy to be spending time with me."

"So why has he told me he hurt you? That he did something you didn't want."

"Because he's upset. He usually doesn't have much confidence in himself. He feels like a failure and he fears I won't want him. He said he was sorry he hurt me several times."

"You seem to know him quite well."

"I'm beginning to. If anything, I feel like the one who's taken advantage. I should have realised he wasn't ready for that. He needs friendship right now, not a lover."

Catherine nodded and smiled, much to my relief. "I can see you're telling the truth. Arthur has, unfortunately, a history of distorting things in his own mind."

"Can I see him?"

"Of course. You have a little time before he's transferred."

"Transferred?" I stared at her, my breath catching in my throat.

"There's a place ready for him at Arkham. There will be an ambulance available to take him there in about an hour."

"No!" I cried. "You can't lock him up in there. He's not crazy."

"No, but he's a danger to himself. He needs proper twenty-four-hour care while he's assessed and given new medication. Once things settle down, the doctors there will review the situation."

"Oh, God, no," I groaned. "I can't believe this. He was doing okay. He has a job and an apartment. He had some bad episodes before he went off his medication, but mostly he seemed to get on fine."

"Perhaps you could speak with his employer and landlord?"

I could imagine what the reaction would be if I approached the city housing office, told them Arthur was in Arkham, and asked if they could they waive his rent for the foreseeable. He'd get home to find his stuff gone and someone else living in his apartment.

"I'll deal with it," I said. "You will make sure everyone knows the truth, won't you? That he didn't hurt me?"

Catherine nodded. "Thank you for talking to me, Audra."

"One more thing. He's in this situation because the system cut the funding for people like him. What happens when he leaves Arkham?"

"I'm sorry to say he's a high-risk case that shouldn't have slipped through the net. He works and pays taxes. He shouldn't have been left without care. The services have been cut, yes, but he'll have a therapist here at the hospital when he leaves Arkham, and whatever prescriptions he needs."

"Thank God," I muttered. "I mean, thank you."

I left her and went to find Arthur. He was in the ward where I left him, dressed in white cotton trousers and a short-sleeved shirt, hospital slippers on his feet. He sat on the bed, fiddling with the edge of the bandage on his arm.

"Arthur?"

He looked up at my voice, his green eyes full of sorrow. "I'm so sorry," he murmured.

"Don't you say that to me again. You have nothing to be sorry for, Arthur. Not a thing." I sat beside him and took his hands in mine. "I told them exactly what happened. You didn't do anything wrong."

"You should have stopped me."

"I didn't want to stop you. Look at me." I touched his face and made him meet my gaze. "I liked kissing you, and everything else. I was just as excited as you were. You know I can take care of myself. If I'd wanted you to stop, I could have stopped you. You do know that?"

"I suppose." He nodded slowly.

"I wish I had stopped things going that far, only because you were so upset after. I think we should have gone on a few more dates first. Perhaps we can when you get out of the hospital."

"You still want to?" he said in disbelief.

"Yes, I want to. I care about you, Arthur. I'd like to go for dinner again, or to the movies, or even just sit in front of the TV together and watch Murray Franklin. Whatever you want. But I can promise you, whatever it is we do, I will want to kiss you, a lot. And whatever comes next, when you're ready for it."

Tears slid down Arthur's cheeks and he put his hands over his face. "I don't deserve you," he choked.

"Yes, you do. You're the sweetest guy I know, and I want you in my life. I'll be waiting, when you come home."

"You know they're putting me in Arkham?" His voice shook and he sniffed hard.

"Yes, I know. They want to make sure you're safe and get your meds sorted again. You could have died today, Arthur. You lost a lot of blood."

"Yeah, I know. What about my apartment? All my stuff?"

"I'll take care of it. Don't worry about anything. I can go and see your employer too, if you want. See if they can hold your job for you."

"You'd do that for me?"

"Of course."

"I work for Ha-Ha's. My boss is Hoyt. He's an arsehole, but he says he likes me and that I do a good job."

"I'll go and see him," I promised.

"How much time do we have?" Arthur lifted his head and rubbed his hands over his cheeks to dry them.

"Not long. They're waiting for an ambulance to come for you."

"I'm sorry you're having to deal with all this. I didn't think about what I was doing earlier. I just wanted to get away from what I did."

"I know." I tentatively leaned closer, desperate to hug him.

"I won't go it again." He sniffed. "But I think you should forget about me. I'm not worth it. I'll just keep causing you trouble and making you miserable. It's not fair on you. Besides, when I get out I'll go back to square one. I don't know why they're bothering with me. As soon as I leave, I'll be off my meds again and—"

"You won't. The woman who talked to you—Catherine—told me you shouldn't have lost your support. You'll have a therapist here at the hospital in the future and they'll give you your prescriptions."

Arthur shook his head. "I'm not worth it," he repeated. "I'm a waste of everyone's time."

"Don't talk like that. You are worth it. Let them help you. I'm not going anywhere, and I want you to remember that when you're in the hospital. I'll be waiting for you and one day, when you're ready, you can buy me red roses."

"Do you know what red means?"

"Yes, I know." I probably shouldn't have done it, but I couldn't stop myself. I cupped his face in my hands, and kissed him on the lips, slow and gentle. "Think about this, too, because it's the first thing I'll do when I see you again."

I drew away at the sound of someone clearing their throat and looked up to see Catherine standing a little distance away. She had a smile on her face and had clearly seen and heard enough to believe what I'd told her.

"They're ready for you, Arthur," she told him.

Suzanne walked over pushing a wheelchair and helped Arthur get into it. He was very weak and collapsed into the chair after taking two steps from the bed.

"Goodbye, Audra," he said, barely above a whisper.

"'Bye, Arthur. I'll see you soon." I stayed where I was as they wheeled him away, then I left and made my way home, struggling to hold back my tears.

By the time I got home, it was late, and I was exhausted. I lay down on the sofa, thinking I would rest for a few minutes before I got ready for bed, but I woke up hours later with a stiff neck. Thankfully, I didn't have to work that day. I showered, dressed, and ate breakfast, then went down to Sophie's apartment, hoping to catch her before she went to work.

"God, Audra, you look terrible!" she exclaimed, as she let me in.

"Thanks a lot."

"I mean, you look tired and sad."

"I am tired and sad. How long have you got?"

"I'm on a half day. I don't go in until one o'clock. I'll make some coffee. Has something happened?"

"Arthur tried to kill himself," I blurted, and burst into tears. I wasn't much of a crier, but the last twenty-four hours had been too much. "He's in Arkham," I sobbed, as Sophie wrapped her arms around me.

"Oh my God. Come and sit down." Coffee forgotten, she ushered me to the sofa. A few minutes later, when I'd mopped up my tears with a handful of tissues, I told her the whole story.

"I don't know how long they'll keep him there. I suppose it depends on him," I finished. "He has to want to get better."

"The system is shit," Sophie said. "It took him almost dying for them to realise they made a mistake by cutting his support. Anybody with money wouldn't have gone through this. We just don't matter."

"I know. I have another problem, too. It's not an immediate issue, because the rent was paid on Friday, but if Arthur's still in hospital in a month, his rent won't get paid. If he's in for two months or more, he won't have a home to come back to."

"I suppose you could talk to the housing office," Sophie said doubtfully.

I snorted. "I can imagine the conversation. 'Mr Fleck is in Arkham for the foreseeable future.' 'Oh good, we have a family needing an apartment.' I have to go and see his employer, too, and ask if they'll hold his job."

"Supposing it's all okay and he comes home in a few weeks. What will happen between you two?" Sophie asked.

"I don't know yet. I'll always be his friend. I hope it will be more, but I don't know. At the moment, he thinks he's not worth it."

I stayed with Sophie for the rest of the morning until she had to get ready for work. Then, as inclined as I was to fall into a miserable hole of self-pity, I travelled into the city to find Ha-Ha's. Doing something to help Arthur helped me feel better.

I found the place easily enough; a dilapidated building with a sign above a door. The other side of the door was a flight of stairs leading to the upper floor. I immediately came face to face with a huge man dressed as a clown, and I knew I was in the right place.

"Hi." I cleared my throat. "I'm looking for someone called Hoyt?"

"And you are?"

"I'm Audra. I'm Arthur Fleck's friend."

"Ooooh." The clown's eyes widened. "He has a friend? A pretty thing like you? And we all thought he was making you up."

"He talked about me?"

"Oh yes. Pretty Audra from the apartment upstairs. He bought you roses and took you out for dinner. Or was that a figment of his imagination?"

"No, it wasn't his imagination." I frowned. "Who are you?"

"I'm sorry. I'm Randall." He offered a hand in a huge white glove for me to shake. When I took it, my palm buzzed with the joke device he had in his glove. I snatched my hand back while he laughed raucously.

"Where can I find Hoyt?"

"Through there." Randall pointed down a corridor. "Last door."

I made my way to Hoyt's office and knocked.

"Yes, come in!"

I entered and closed the door behind me. The man at the desk looked up and his eyes widened.

"Well, good afternoon. And who might you be?" He offered me a lascivious smile.

Inwardly, I rolled my eyes, but I immediately saw a way of getting a favour out of him if he wasn't inclined to offer one out of the good of his heart. I leaned on the desk and smiled. "Hello... Hoyt. I'm here to talk to you about Arthur Fleck."

Hoyt tutted. "What's he done now?"

"He's sick. I'm his friend. He was anxious about letting you down, so I wanted to come and appeal to your better nature and see if you could hold his job for him. Please."

"Sick? In what way? His usual freakiness, or something else? He's been weirder than usual anyway, the last couple of weeks."

"Usual freakiness." I hated using Hoyt's own words to describe Arthur, but I imagined this man was in the same boat as most of us and hated the system. "He's been weirder than usual because the powers that be took away his support."

Hoyt frowned. "Bastards. Doesn't surprise me. It's all about saving money."

"Exactly. He's in the hospital getting things sorted."

Hoyt huffed out a breath. "Arkham?"

"Um—"

He waved a hand. "It wouldn't surprise me. I don't care about that. He's popular. He makes me money when he's on his game. How long's he gonna be locked up?"

I winced. "I'm not sure. Not too long, I hope."

"Well, I got nothing to lose. I can cover the bookings he has for this week. After that—it's a quiet period anyway, coming up to Christmas. Folks are doing other stuff. They're not so interested in hiring clowns. He can come back when he's ready. I'll always be able to book him out."

"That's wonderful." I gave him a winning smile. "You're so kind."

"Well, I try." He puffed up his chest and grinned.

"I'll be seeing you," I said warmly, and left the office. "What an arsehole," I muttered as I descended the stairs. But at least he'd agreed to my request. Now I just had to sort out the issue of Arthur's apartment, although I had some time to do it.

I took the train back and let myself into Arthur's place. I still had the key from locking up when he was taken to the hospital. First, I emptied the fridge of items that would go off. A few things I could use myself, so I took them back to my own place. The rest, I threw out. Then I scrubbed the carpet, over and over, until the blood stains reduced to a faint discolouration. Finally, feeling like a creep and a spy invading his privacy, I searched for his rental agreement.

Arthur kept his papers in good order in a large file. It was divided into sections and the one at the front was labelled 'rent,' much to my relief. At least I didn't have to poke and pry too much to find what I needed. He paid the same amount as I did, on the same day of the month. The payment was taken directly out of his bank, which was the arrangement I had, too.

"Sorry, Arthur," I said aloud, as I flicked through the file to the section marked 'bank.' I found the most recent statement and unclipped it from the file. The balance, dated just a few days ago, showed he barely had enough money to buy a bag of groceries, but payments from Ha-Ha's were made weekly, so at least he didn't have a long time to wait in between. Unfortunately, Ha-Ha's wouldn't be paying him for a while.

I checked the statement carefully for other sums going out regularly, but there didn't seem to be any. Our rent included services charges, so there were no individual bills that might come up in his absence. I put the file away but kept the statement. The only thing I could do was find the extra money for Arthur's rent and put it in his bank before the next payment went out. I knew I had enough spare in my account to do it, but if he was in Arkham longer than a month, I'd have to conjure up extra money from somewhere.

I went home and called the man who ran North Street. Currently, I worked around seven hours each day I was there. Tammy had recently quit, and they were struggling to find someone reliable to fill her place. I offered myself for unlimited extra hours, and when I ended the call, I had increased shifts for up to ten hours, and a six-day working week instead of five days. That should cover it. Now all I had to do was find a way to get through the next weeks, or months, without worrying too much about Arthur. That would be easier said than done.