Tables Turned

By Ian David Noakes

A single mother's patience snaps when a delinquent yob crosses the line and breaks into her property in the middle of the night. Instead of calling the police, she ties the insolent terror to a dining chair and attempts to find out why she does the things she does.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ian David Noakes
• Release date: Nov 3, 2016
• ISBN: 9781684190560

Ian David Noakes

From humble beginnings as a projectionist, Ian David Noakes has taken on several feature film and television options as well as writing commissions since writing full-time in 2009. His big breakthrough came when his erotic murder-mystery, Hourglass Heights, achieved a publishing contract. It was later nominated for both the People's Book Prize as well as the National Book Awards After a wave of overwhelmingly positive reviews, Noakes experimented with many other genres as well. Most recently, he completed a dramedy pilot called Partners in Crime before adapting it into both a novel and completed series under the auspicious title Fish, Chips & Lubricating Jelly. He has also penned a fun-filled horror novella called The Ancient Lawman. Meanwhile a short drama he created, Tables Turned, has begun pre-production while he works on a re-write for his upcoming feature film, More Than Human. A serious case of indecisiveness syndrome has made it impossible to tell you what could be coming next. He is currently juggling a wide range of genres ranging from time traveling serial killer thrillers to dimension-crashing epics to supernatural horrors. When he's not immersed in one of his incredible tales, Noakes enjoys spending time with his wife, five children and a constant supply of Starbucks mochas. Recently, he has become a behavioural therapist as well, because who else would you rather discuss your problems with than a caffeinated, child-rearing, wife-doting, novella-penning, screen-writing, genre-jumper?

Book preview

TABLES TURNED

By

Ian David Noakes

COPYRIGHT © 2014 IAN DAVID NOAKES

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

DEDICATIONS

I would like to dedicate this short story to my wife for never giving up on my writing journey, and to my family and closest friends for their ongoing encouragement.

I would also like to express a sincere thank you to:

Meg Stefanac; my entrusted copyeditor

Rod Wong; my talented illustrator

www.iandavidnoakes.com

www.facebook.com/iandavidnoakes

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 1

I watch them from my bedroom window, guilt and fear swirling around the pit of my stomach as they terrorize my neighbours. I know that I could be next, but find relief in their decision to attack somebody else today. Does that make me a terrible person?

I open the window just a pinch to see if I can hear what they’re planning to do next. I keep out of sight. I can’t let them see me because if they do, they’ll smell my dread.

But they’re having too much fun to even look in my direction. There are just the two of them: a boy and a girl that don’t look a day over sixteen. The lad, dressed in baggy jeans that hang around his bum and an equally over-sized hoodie, is hurling stones over my neighbour’s house, but they’re not clearing the tiles and are bouncing back down, tumbling onto garden furniture and parked cars as they fall. But it isn’t the boy that scares me. It’s the girl filming him with her camera phone.

The girl, who is wearing denim shorts over black leggings and a short black hoodie, looks from behind her smartphone briefly as she snaps, That’s pretty fuckin’ lame, Billy. My gran wouldn’t even get out of bed for that!

What do you want me to do then, Rosie? the thug whines.

Rosie. My stomach twists and turns. I never pegged her as a Rosie. I’ve seen her around the estate on many occasions, and she is always two short steps behind everything bad that happens around here. I will never look at a rose the same way again. What was once a symbol of beauty and affection now reveals its true self: a prickly shrub that can hurt you even though it appears harmless on the outside.

Billy lingers on the driveway of the house opposite. He hasn’t finished with it yet. He surveys the front garden and then his gaze slowly shifts toward the house itself. A smile creeps across his face as he fiddles with his fly and the girl trots towards the house.

What are you doing? I wonder out loud to myself. Rosie knows, because she looks as excited as he does and she is already in a good position to grab footage with her phone.

Keep filming, Rosie, he snickers.

Billy pushes his crotch up against the letterbox and pushes it open before pushing his manhood into the gaping mail slot.

In a state of hysteria, Rosie edges in for a close-up. Billy looks up as he urinates into my neighbour’s entranceway. Their home. The place a homeowner returns for peace, quiet and security.

I snap my curtains closed and retch into my hands. I swim in the relief that they chose to ignore my home and target somebody else today. I am a terrible person.

CHAPTER 2

I stand near the dining table in my open-plan kitchen-dining room. A healthy, cooked meal is laid out in front of me: pork steaks, boiled potatoes and a balanced mix of vegetables. The problem is I’d forgotten it was there and it was now well on its way to Cold Kingdom.

A framed photograph of my husband in his soldier’s uniform with our son at his side had sparked me into a trance-like reverie. I must have been standing here for fifteen minutes while the dinner I had prepared