Chapter 10

The next morning I went back to work, and Arthur accompanied me on the train. The gig at the children's hospital wasn't until later, but he wanted to get to Ha-Ha's early to put on his clown suit and do his makeup, in the hopes that there might be more work for him before the hospital gig.

Arthur got off the train two stops before me, and I continued until I reached the closest stop to the shelter. As soon as I arrived, I met Jessica, the new recruit who was to replace Tammy. She was blonde and pretty, and very tall.

"I hope I'm not treading on your toes," was the first thing she said. "They said they were short-staffed when I applied, but that you were cutting your hours."

"It's okay. The person you're replacing left a gap. I did extra to fill in and because I had a bill to cover. I'm delighted to be back to my normal hours."

We got on well from the start and chattered while we prepared lunch. Jessica told me she was a teacher but had lost her job after the school she worked at closed down. I'd heard about it on the news and commiserated that she and her colleagues were out of work. "What made you choose to work here?" I asked.

"If I'm totally honest, lack of options was the main reason. I applied for everything available that I'm remotely capable of doing so I at least have a wage coming in. But I like working with people and helping them, so I'm happy to be doing this. I'd like another teaching job if one comes up, but it doesn't look hopeful if I stay in the city."

I nodded. The city's education system was falling apart with many well-off families taking their children out of schools to have private tutoring, and the poorer ones falling by the wayside when schools closed due to lack of funding.

"My husband's a teacher, too," Jessica went on. "He works at Washington College, though."

Washington was a private residential college for those who could afford the exorbitant tutoring fees, and with the many rich families on the west side of the city, there was little chance of the college ever having to close and make its staff redundant. It was well-known that the billionaire, Thomas Wayne, had already paid for a place there for his son, even though he wouldn't be old enough to attend for several years.

"Would you be able to get a job there?" I asked.

"No, I don't have the right qualifications, but I wouldn't want to. I'm too ordinary for those snobs."

"I take it your husband isn't a snob, then," I teased.

"No, he's just a good actor. What about you? Not married?"

"No, but I, um, I have a boyfriend." I couldn't help the smile that crept across my face as I thought of Arthur. I told her a little about him—only that he was a children's entertainer and stand-up comedian, and that he was sweet to me and bought me roses.

The day flew by and Jessica finished at the same time I did. Arthur was waiting outside, the hood of his tan jacket up and his hands in his pockets. It reminded me of when he'd followed me before we got to know each other properly.

"Arthur!" Immediately, he smiled brightly and shoved his hood back. I slid my hand into his and kissed his cheek. "Arthur, this is my new colleague, Jessica."

"Hello, Arthur." She offered her hand for him to shake. He took it and shook carefully.

"Hello, Jessica."

"I've heard a lot about you," she said.

His smile vanished, and he shot an anxious look at me. I squeezed his hand. "I was telling her you're a stand-up comedian."

"Oh! Oh, well, I've only done it a couple of times so far, but I'm having another go on Friday. I called them earlier," he added for my benefit.

Jessica said she'd come to a show one day, then set off home, leaving Arthur and me to walk to the station. "How did it go today?" I asked.

"It was good. I had a two-hour job this morning, sign-spinning for a store that's closing. Then the kids' hospital. Then the general hospital's cancer ward after that. I got tips, too, from the kids' hospital. Some of the parents were there and they all said how good I was with the children. Better than Randall," he said smugly. "One of them remembered me from a few weeks ago and said she hopes I'll be a regular there again from now on. I said if they let Ha-Ha's know how much they liked me I should be able to do that."

"That's great, I'm glad it went so well. And you spoke to Pogo's?"

"Yes, I reminded of them my second gig there. I'm on at seven thirty."

"I'll be there," I said at once.

"I'll try not to let you down." He bit his lip.

"Arthur, you could never let me down. Don't start to worry that it'll go wrong before you get there. You'll make yourself nervous. Think about how good you were the second time. I'm only sorry I missed it."

For the rest of the week, Arthur and I travelled to and from the city on the train together and ate dinner together in my apartment. Arthur bought a bag of groceries from his tip money and insisted I take them, given that I was making him meals every day. When he got paid on Friday, he calculated the spare money he would have until the next payday, put it in an envelope, and presented it to me as the first payment off his "loan." He marked it off in his notebook and wrote the new total due underneath. I said nothing other than "thank you," knowing he would only get upset if I argued.

After work on Friday, we ate a cold meal I'd prepared in the morning to save time. Then Arthur returned to his apartment to get ready for his appearance at Pogo's, and I changed into a plain red dress and tied my hair up. I added a touch of makeup, then waited for Arthur to come back. I repeatedly glanced at my watch, worried that he would be late, but eventually, there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find him standing there in his red suit, yellow waistcoat, and green shirt—the same outfit he'd worn on that other night. Nervously, he tugged a hand through his hair.

"Should I wear something else? I was wearing this when, you know, when I—"

"Shh." I pressed a finger to his lips. "You look good in this, and you said you were confident, too."

"That was because I was off my meds."

"Think of it as being confident because you looked so good and felt good in this nice suit. You'll be fine, Arthur."

"I hope so. I need this. I need them to think I'm good, so they'll pay me for Saturday nights."

"Please don't look at it like that." I slid my hands into his and squeezed them. His hands were ice cold. "This is what you want—to be a popular comedian. Don't think about the aspect of getting paid for it. You'll put yourself under even more pressure."

"Why are you so good to me?" Arthur sighed.

"Because I love you." My breath caught in my throat. I hadn't meant to say it then. I feared it would unsettle him too much, one way or another, and he'd be too distracted to perform. I'd intended to tell him how I felt when we were alone together, perhaps cuddling on my sofa after a nice meal.

"You—you do?" Arthur's eyes went wide, and he squeezed my hands so tightly it was almost painful. "But why?"

"You're sweet and caring and gentle. You make me laugh. You make me excited when you kiss me. You make me feel special. I love being in your company. I love you."

"Oh." A small giggle escaped Arthur's lips. "I love you too. I was scared to say so. I thought you might laugh."

"I wouldn't laugh, Arthur. I would just love to hear it."

He grinned now. "I love you," he repeated. "I love you. I love you."

"And I love you. Let's go."

We held hands as we walk to the station, Arthur's freezing hand gripping my smaller warm one, his long legs striding jauntily along so that I almost had to run to keep up. The smile didn't leave his face on the entire journey to Pogo's, and he was still smiling when he was shown where to wait for his slot.

"Are you gonna be okay?" I asked, as a member of staff hovered, waiting to show me to a seat out in the club.

"I think so." His smile wavered but didn't disappear completely. I left him, and went to sit where I was shown, to one side of the group of little tables. A member of the serving staff immediately came over to offer me a drink.

I glanced at my watch again—seven twenty-seven. Arthur would be on as soon as the current performer, who was earning plenty of laughs, finished his performance. "Please be okay," I whispered. This meant so much to him, and I knew how distraught he would be if he lost his nerve and laughed like he had the first time.

The comedian on the stage finished and moved away. A moment later the compere appeared, made a quick comment on the last performer, then cleared his throat. "Now we have a relative newcomer to the stage. You may have seen this one a few weeks ago and remembered how funny his routine was. Please put your hands together for Arthur Fleck!"

Scattered applause welcomed Arthur, as he stepped hesitantly onto the stage, his smile gone. It quickly reappeared, but was clearly forced, as he took his position behind the microphone.

"I remember him," I heard someone say. "Hilarious last time."

Arthur snorted, then coughed. His eyes took on a slight look of panic, but mercifully, he didn't break out into hysterical laughter. Instead, he began to talk, a little too fast at first, but he quickly settled into his routine. I relaxed and laughed along with the rest of the audience. So far so good.

Arthur's performance lasted fifteen minutes. He was still in full swing when the compere appeared on the stage, and he beamed with pleasure when a few groans of disappointment came from the audience at the interruption. He left the stage to a decent amount of applause. I hurried to the entrance to meet him, delighted for him.

"How did I do?" He grinned at me, then performed a few dance steps and spun around before grabbing me in a hug.

"You were amazing. Everyone was laughing."

"Well, not everyone…" He chuckled as he let me go.

"They were disappointed when you finished."

"You think I'm good enough for a Saturday night?"

Before I could answer, a suited man appeared. "I believe so. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Pogue Goacher. I own this place. And you are Arthur Fleck?"

"Y-yes." Arthur's smile froze and he fidgeted nervously.

"You performed here a few weeks ago," Pogue remembered. "Thought it was a one-off at the time as we didn't see you for a while after."

"I, um, I was—" Arthur cleared his throat and choked a little, clearly fighting laughter. "I was sick. I was in the, um, the hospital."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Better now, I trust?"

"Y-yes." He coughed again. I slid my hand into his and squeezed.

"Well, the audience obviously liked your performance. You got the most laughs we've had lately. How would you feel about a half hour slot tomorrow night?"

"Saturday?" Arthur's eyes widened and his nails dug into my hand.

"Yes. You'd be paid, of course."

"Um, well, I, um, y-yes! Yes, of course. I'd love to." Arthur pulled his hand free of mine and offered it to Pogue. "I'm sorry, I didn't greet you properly. I was, um, I was nervous."

Pogue shook his hand firmly. "No need to be, my man. How about you come along to the office? You'll need to sign a couple of things if we're going to have you on the pay roll. Tomorrow will be an introductory night, so to speak. If all goes well, we can give you a regular gig every week, early evening to start."

"Oh! That would be, um, that would be amazing!"

"I'll wait here," I said.

Arthur followed Pogue down the corridor without even glancing at me. I smiled to myself. Finally, he was getting what he always wanted. I was excited for him, and mentally marked Saturday nights at Pogo's in my diary for the foreseeable future.

Arthur appeared, bouncing on the balls of his feet, ten minutes later. He grabbed my hand and hurried me outside. "Oh my! Fuck! Oh, God, sorry, I didn't mean to say that. I can't believe it." He burst into loud laughter, then quickly stifled it. "He really liked me. He's the owner. The owner liked me. He's going to pay me almost as much for one gig as I get for a whole day with Ha-Ha's. I'll be able to pay you back much quicker than I hoped. I'll pay you everything I get from this straight away."

"Arthur, don't worry about that just now. Enjoy the moment," I told him.

"I'm not worried about it. I'm delighted. I don't like owing you money. And I am enjoying the moment. We'll be able to go out and do things. I can pay for the coffee and cake next time." His beaming smile slid from his face suddenly. "You do want to go out again, don't you? I didn't ask. Audra?"

"Of course I want to go out. Never doubt that." I gave his hand another firm squeeze. "I love you, Arthur."

"I love you, too." His grin returned. He stopped walking, grabbed me in a traditional dance hold, and began to waltz me around in the middle of the wet street. "I love you, Audra!" he shouted.

"Oh my God, stop, we'll get run over." Laughing, I guided the dance back to the footpath. Cars hooted as they passed, and a couple walking along the other side of the street laughed and pointed. "I didn't know you were such a good dancer, Arthur."

"I love dancing. My, um, Penny taught me to dance. We used to dance in the apartment to old records. I've never danced with anyone else."

"What a waste. Whoa!" I cried out as Arthur stopped suddenly and bent me back over his arm with a flourish. I clutched at his shoulders, and he pulled me upright, then lowered his head to plant a brief warm kiss on my lips. When he straightened up, he took my hand again and began to lead me to the station.

The way he was then, he reminded me of that night he'd come to my apartment in his red suit, with a bunch of orange roses, and things had got out of hand. A spark of excitement ran through me, but I couldn't let things get to that point again—not yet. It wouldn't do Arthur any good to rush things, and the way he was acting made me wonder if it was all exhilaration from his performance, or if he'd not been taking his medication properly. He'd barely been out of Arkham any time at all, though, so I doubted it would have such a rapid effect if he hadn't.

When we reached the apartment block and got in the lift, Arthur punched the button for my floor. My heart banged against my rib cage as we exited again and walked to my door.

"Arthur—" I paused before I got my key out.

"What's wrong? Did you lose your key?"

"Ha. No. I want to ask you something."

"Okay…" He licked his lips and fidgeted, twisting his hands together.

"You are taking your meds, aren't you?"

His eyes widened, then a wild laugh burst from him. He raised both hands and tugged his fingers through his hair. "Oh God. I'm acting weird, aren't I?" He paced in a circle and laughed some more. "I am taking them, I swear. I take them at the exact same time every morning and every evening. I'm just, I'm excited because Mr Pogo liked me. You don't like me like this, do you?" He covered his mouth with both hands as laughter overtook him.

"Arthur, I'm sorry." I went to him and rested my hands on his arms. "I just wanted to make sure, that's all. I love you happy and confident. I love you however you are. So long as you're okay, that's all that matters."

Gradually, his laughter subsided into gasps. He lowered his hands and took a deep breath. "I won't get like I was that night again. That wasn't me. Well, it was me, but it wasn't a nice me. I think I should go home now."

"Okay." I leaned in and kissed his cheek. "I'm working tomorrow, but I'll see you in the evening for dinner as usual. Then we'll go to Pogo's."

"Let's hope it goes as well as tonight did." He gave me a small smile, returned my kiss, and walked back to the lift.