Arrested

Copyright oggbashan August 2022

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

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It could have gone so wrong.

My friend Ruth sprained her ankle a week ago. It is nearly healed now. She works in a PX on a US army base in England in early 1944, and I am a woman service person. I had been helping unpaid in the PX for a week while Ruth sat behind a counter. We are both black.

I had been wheeling a trolley load of cereal boxes out from the store room when a wheel caught on an obstruction on the floor. The packets started to fall. A black serviceman caught them and restacked the trolley, helping me.

"Thank you" I said.

"No problem, Miss," He replied. "I am Louis. You are?"

"Jessica."

We started talking. Louis plays in a jazz band in his spare time. There would be a dance on Friday night. He would be playing. Most of those attending would be black except for a few Englishmen and many English girls. He gave me two tickets for the dance. I had wanted to go but the tickets had sold out.

Louis scrawled something on both tickets and signed them.

That was it. Louis bought what he had come for and left. I liked what I had seen and it would be interesting to hear him play. What instrument? I didn't know.

When Ruth and I arrived at the dance the doorman looked closely at our tickets and summoned a young man who was standing by.

"Joshua? These are guests of the management. Take them to the special table and see they get whatever drinks they want and then? You know what to do."

Joshua might have known. We didn't.

At the special table Joshua brought drinks from the bar and a few minutes later brought across two men to join us. Their names don't matter. The two of them danced with us, gently with Ruth because of her nearly healed ankle, made sure our drinks were refreshed, and at the interval took us backstage to meet Louis and his band mates. Louis had been the lead trumpeter and his playing was exquisite.

Ruth and I had a wonderful evening. At the end we joined the band again. Ruth had made friends with the bass player and the two of them went off together. Louis offered to walk me back to my quarters. So far all he had done was kiss my hand each time we met. I hoped for more and was intending to give him a goodnight kiss.

But just as we approached the hut my shoe's heel caught on an ornamental rock and broke. I started to fall but Louis's hand caught me. Unfortunately, his left hand grabbed my right tit. He was carrying his cased trumpet in his right hand. I swore. The contact had been painful.

That wouldn't have mattered except that a jeep full of MPs were passing. They stopped. I was still swearing. Was that about my broken heel, or my bruised tit? I don't know.

"Are you OK, Ma'am?" A white officer asked.

I should have said 'yes' and made it up with Louis. I made the mistake of saying 'no' because my tit was still hurting.

One thing led to another and Louis was arrested and the two of us had to go to the guard room.

Louis was taken away in handcuffs and I was interviewed by the white officer.

"Had Louis attacked me?"

No.

"Had Louis molested me?"

Technically, yes, but it had been an accident. It took an hour before they established that Louis had done nothing wrong. I didn't want to make a complaint and we were free to go. The white officer was disappointed. I think he wanted to charge a black man with sexual assault.

Outside the guard room I apologised to Louis. He didn't seem convinced that I meant it. I grabbed his head and pulled him into a passionate kiss. That worked. His arms went around my body and we clinched. Ten minutes later a black MP passed us while we were still kissing.

"You've forgiven him then?" he asked.

I had to break from the kiss to answer.

"Yes. He had been trying to help me. Now I'm helping myself."

"So I can see. Goodnight."

It took a long time and many kisses before we got back to my quarters and another hour before I could give Louis his final goodnight kiss.

My mistake had got him arrested. My apology might have got both of us arrested if anyone had seen...