AN: John Coleridge is completely fictional in terms of canon. Also, I'm not quite sure how old Frank is, but I presume he's somewhere around fifty in Downpour. I'm going to assume he'd be in his early twenties during the seventies.
An hour had passed before the mirror, trying on every outfit she had in her posession. Dresses and skirts were piled high upon her bed, whilst a slew of shoes lay sprawled in a messy heap beside the door.
Nothing she wore looked appropriate, making the teenager resemble a child as opposed to the young woman she was becoming. Ironic then, that her work scrubs revealed more flesh than anything she happened to own.
Short hair often made girls look older than they were. Despite her youth, Lisa's appearance was that of a woman in her twenties. It was a decision she had specifically made in order to appear more mature. But though looked like an adult, she certainly didn't feel like one.
Long skirts, baggy trousers and thick cardigans decorated her hangers, moth ridden and dusty from disuse. There was no need for her to even possess such items, never having any time to wear them. Nor any friends for her to socialize with.
Time ticked idly by, with the neurotic girl fumbling to find a decent outfit for the occasion. It all seemed so surreal, like a distant dream beginning to fade with the coming of dawn. Her hands were tingling, her pulse dancing quicker than the flap of a hummingbird's wings.
She wanted to look nice for him. At the hospital she was so dowdy, with dark circles and a bland, forgettable air about her. The other women wore make-up, styled their hair, carried themselves with exuberant self-esteem.
Lisa may have been good at feigning confidence, but inside she was forever shrinking. One day she feared her soul would completely vanish, leaving an empty shell behind.
Shaking free the crushing thoughts that threatened to dampen her day, the teen finally opted for a simple red dress. Crimson had always suited her. Everybody agreed that it matched her strawberry blonde locks perfectly.
Adorning them with a pair of white slip on sandals, she set about styling her now-dry hair. She thought about leaving it loose, letting it shape her almond face as it usually did. However, after much deliberation, the girl decided to knot her bob into a small bun.
Without hair to obscure her features, the teen found herself looking much more like an adult. Every inch of her face was defined; Cheekbones, forehead, slender neck. No longer hidden beneath her fair hair, the nurse was surprised to see her own attributes shine.
Running both hands down her hips to smooth out any crease marks, she ogled the petite, lithe figure writhing beneath the fabric, further accentuated by the style of dress. She'd always thought herself a little too skinny for such clothes.
Opening her drawer, she removed a small storage tin. The cold metal disturbed her warm fingers as she plucked at the lid, taking a generously sized matchbox from within. The distant, vaguely pleasant aroma of sulphur invaded her nostrils.
A mischievous grin illuminated her soft face, two rosy lips eliciting a soft laugh as she began to rummage through the matches. A sliver of excitement bubbled in the pit of her stomach, churning as she realized what she was about to do.
I'm becoming such a rebel, she mused, retrieving a secret tube of lipstick concealed beneath the matchsticks. It had been a gift from one of her old school friends, an act of kindness overshadowed by her mother's strict limitations.
The girl had been saving it for three long years, unable to confess it's existence to her parents. Knowing it would be confiscated should she tell them, Lisa had opted for simply hiding it away, hoping she would eventually find a use for it.
Slipping off the hollow lid, she stared at the beautiful scarlet within, finding it a waste to let something so precious go unused. The tip was slightly smudged from where she had previously tried it on, testing the strength of it's deep hue.
Now, however, she was finally willing to take the next step. Her heart fluttered as she accepted her own challenge, snatching up a black handbag and dropping the stick inside. Neatly folding the slightly stained handkerchief, she carefully placed it atop the forbidden fruit.
Running through her plan as she descended the stairs, the nurse bid farewell to her parents, giving them a reluctant peck on the cheek as she left. Though she didn't feel much like hugging, the girl wanted to deflect any sort of suspicion.
Painting a smile on her face, she slid out of the front door, grinning all the way down the street. Perhaps it was paranoia, but she got the distinct feeling that she was being watched. The net curtains swayed ever so slightly as she glanced back.
Go ahead, watch me leave. The girl defiantly thought, pivoting on her heel as she carried on walking. One day, I'll be gone for good.
She was early. The show didn't start for another three hours. Rather than heading straight for the theatre, Lisa instead took a detour down Koontz Street, arriving at the door of Andy's Books. She hadn't planned on visiting the store, but decided to have a browse regardless.
As she entered, the bell above the door rang, alerting the clerk of her presence. From behind the counter, a middle-aged man smiled at her, bringing back many pleasant memories.
Despite it's name, the shop wasn't actually owned by anyone called Andy. It had been at one time, until the man retired. Now it was owned by his son, a friendly man by the name of John Coleridge. He'd been Lisa's boss during her time as an employee.
'Well if it isn't little Lisa Garland!' The jovial man exclaimed, reaching out to shake her hand. 'I haven't seen you in years. Thought you'd left town.'
She shook her head, releasing his clammy hand. 'No, I've just been really busy. When you're an intern at Alchemilla, there's no time for recreation.'
John looked her up and down, examining her mature figure. If it were anybody else, the teen would have been disgusted, but Coleridge was merely admiring the young woman she had become. Lisa knew there was no lust in his eyes.
Running a finger down the crisp spine of a nearby book, the nurse inhaled deeply. Even after several years, the air still carried a faint aroma of must and paper. It was a pleasant sort of scent, filling the woman with warm feelings of nostalgia.
Removing the heavy novel, she skimmed through the pages, feeling them curl beneath her fingertips. Before she started her internship, the teenager would often snuggle beneath her bed sheets and get lost within the depths of fiction. Now, in these melancholy days, she was far to exhausted to read anything.
'So, you're a nurse now?' The man asked, resting his body against the counter.
'Trying to be.' She replied.
'I remember when you wanted to be a star. Every week you'd count up your wages, trying to save up enough money for those acting classes.' The man thoughtfully scratched his chin. 'Kids can be so fickle, always changing their minds.'
Lisa's knuckles turned white as she tightly gripped the cover, threatening to crease the seamless surface with her trembling hands. The man was unaware of how badly his words affected her, yet each syllable was like a knife to the heart.
I didn't change my mind, She thought to herself, gnawing on her lower lip. My mind was changed for me.
Though it wasn't his fault, John had unintentionally hurt the girl's feelings. All the resentment and regret she had tried so hard to repress came flooding back, dampening her previously optimistic mood.
She'd put so much time and effort into achieving her dream, saved up her miniscule wages for months, placed her aspirations on a pedestal that she was never going to reach, then watched as they all came crashing down.
It just didn't seem fair.
Her emotional wounds hadn't ever fully healed, and as she ambled around with book in hand, the girl decided that they probably never would. Though she'd tried to move on, it was difficult for her to forget. She had, after all, thrown away a brilliant opportunity.
'Well.' She said, trying to change the subject. 'Let's hope your son is able to accomplish his dream of becoming a police officer.'
'Corrections officer, actually.' The man beamed proudly. 'But regardless of what Frank chooses to do with his life, I'll always be here to support him.'
Lisa smiled, though it was empty and forced. She didn't feel much like talking anymore. John was a nice and accepting man. She only wished her own parents could be the same way.
Placing the book back on the shelf, she swiftly plucked out an old copy of Watership Down. Handing it to Coleridge, she removed her purse and counted out the correct change, placing it in his palm as he helpfully placed the purchased novel into a bag.
It wasn't that she particularly wanted the book, but Lisa knew that returning home empty handed would only raise questions. Besides, she suddenly felt very claustrophobic in the cramped space. She needed an excuse to leave.
'Thanks, Mr. Coleridge.' She said, earnestly.
'Leaving so soon?' He quizzed, seeming disappointed. 'We've barely had time to catch up.'
The nurse opened the door, once again clanging the bell as she prepared to exit. Looking back one last time, she threw her most sincere smile at the kindly man, accepting the fact that she would probably not see him for quite some time.
'I've got a lot of errands to run, but it was lovely seeing you again. Best of luck with the business, I'll pop by some time for another book.'
Giving him one final wave, she left the tiny shop with a cheerful grin, waiting until the latch clicked into place before dropping her façade. There was little to smile about, especially after being reminded of how she'd so easily abandoned her goals.
If I had the chance to go back, Lisa thought to herself, head low as she trudged up the street. I would do things very differently.
But nobody was ever able to truly alter the past. As she realized this, the teen stopped and gazed down at her clenched hands, remembering the handkerchief that sat in her bag. She wasn't a child anymore, and she wasn't going to be treated like one.
I may not be able to change the past, but I can determine my own future.
With a satisfied smile, she headed for the theatre.