The Middle Child by Angela Marsons

back.  "Try some more.  It’s just your body reacting to food after having none for a while."
         Alex swallowed another mouthful, enjoying the taste on her tongue but hating the uncomfortable feeling of it falling into the oblivion of her empty stomach.  Mouthful by mouthful the sensation lessened until the last spoonful seemed to work it’s way through her intestines properly.
         "That was delicious," Alex admitted.  "Did you make it yourself?"
         "Yeah, me and Campbells," Nikki chuckled, reaching for the dish.  She went to the kitchen and returned with the bowl re-filled.
         Alex groaned good-naturedly but now her system had been woken she felt ravenous.  She reached for the half French loaf and dipped it into the soup so that it was sodden and yellow. 
         "Sorry to see that your appetite is still suffering," Nikki said, taking the empty dish from her.
         Alex chuckled and lit a cigarette.  Nikki had always been able to make her laugh.  She had a dry, acerbic wit that often matched her own.  Some of their bantering sessions had lasted for hours, reducing them both to childish fits of laughter that had made them cry.
         Nikki disappeared to the kitchen once again and returned with two mugs of steaming hot chocolate. 
         "Can you make it?" Nikki asked, with a smile.
         Alex tried to stand and found that although a little wobbly she could make it to the balcony.  Nikki followed with the mugs of hot chocolate and the blanket.  The reclining patio chairs stood as she remembered them.  Facing outwards towards the view of two rows of rooftops, yet the chairs were turned in to each other slightly.  Alex sat in the one that had been hers.  Nikki draped the blanket around her and handed her a mug of hot chocolate. 
         Nikki sat and they remained in silence as they had done hundreds of times before.  It had been part of their nightly ritual to come onto the balcony with either a whisky and lemonade or hot chocolate as dictated by the weather. 
         "Do you remember some of the stuff we used to talk about out here?" Nikki asked.
         Alex nodded.  "We’d discuss our evening out, the music, the food, the atmosphere.  Sometimes you’d tell me the events of your day."
         "Sometimes you’d tell me about something you were working on.  An idea for a story or a character that you wanted to write about.  Your eyes would light up with excitement as though you’d suddenly uncovered a secret, hidden world." Nikki added, wistfully.
         Alex looked away.  Of all the things Nikki had done during their time together the most beautiful had been to reawaken in her a dream that had been murdered when she was eight years old. 
         One of her most vivid childhood memories played in her head as though she was watching it on stage.
         "Did you get me some?" Alex had asked, hopefully, as Catherine placed her school bag beside the bed.  She inspected the outside to see if the shape gave her any clues.
     
         Catherine shook her head.  "I’m sorry, Alex, I couldn’t get any today.  Mrs Gibson didn’t leave the classroom for a minute.  I tried to sneak one out but she just wouldn’t go away."
         Alex was distraught.  She’d just used the last page that Catherine had got for her yesterday. 
         "Ooooh, Aleeeeex," Catherine called from the other end of the room.
         Alex turned to see her oldest sister waving two brand new exercise books in the air.
         Alex chuckled and lunged for the books but Catherine dodged expertly out of her way and Alex landed face down on the bed.
         "You’re not having them," Catherine sang, as she climbed onto the top bunk.
        "Give them to me," Alex cried, scaling the ladder.  Catherine jumped over the other side, landing with bended knees.
         "Catch me and you can have them," Catherine teased heading back towards her own bed.