Free The Middle Child by Angela Marsons

salty tears to her eyes and her whole body began to tremble with cold and weakness.  She reached for the toilet paper to stem the mucus dribbling from her nose but found the holder empty.
         She felt another rush of nausea and threw up again, barely aware of the cubicle door caving in behind her.
         Alex felt a presence beside her. 
         "Come on, I think it’s about time I got you home," said a soft voice that she recognised.  A gentle hand rubbed her back.  She turned and looked into the sweet face of an angel.
         "Hello Nikki, what the fuck are you doing here?"
     
    ***
         Alex was barely aware of the journey.  Her head fell against the window and rattled against it every time the car hit a pothole or stopped at lights.  The mist in her mind was clearing and it annoyed her.  It meant she had to think, explain, justify when all she really wanted to do was exchange one form of anaesthetic for another by moving straight from being pissed to falling asleep.
         She stared out of the window, seeing in the reflection of the glass the concerned glances cast occasionally from Nikki.
         The car stopped in front of the flat they had shared until six months ago and which had been Nikki’s before that and was Nikki’s again now.  Alex was surprised at the stab of nostalgia she felt on seeing the converted Victorian house.
         "Come on, sweet, let’s get you inside," Nikki said, helping her out of the passenger side door.  Alex’s natural instinct was to push aside the assistance and get out of the car by herself.  Nikki stood to the side as Alex swayed and almost collapsed in the gutter. 
         Nikki took her arm forcefully.  "No arguments," she said.
         Alex allowed herself to be assisted up the stairs to the front door of the first floor flat.  Nikki managed to support her and open the front door at the same time.  It occurred to Alex that the flat had barely changed since she’d left.  And, she realised, from when she’d moved in as well.  She saw just how little impact she’d had on the place either by moving into it or moving out. 
         It seemed to have grown since she’d seen it last or maybe it was just in her head.  She had quickly acclimatized to a studio flat where everything except going to the toilet was done in one room.  She remembered now what it was like to move from room to room to perform different functions.
         "How are you feeling?" Nikki asked, as she eased Alex onto the sofa.
         "Like my stomach just got ripped through my throat."
         "I’ll make some black coffee."
         "Why?"
         "To sober you up."
         "Don’t bother," Alex instructed, allowing her head to loll back against the fabric of the sofa.  "It’s a myth.  Black coffee does nothing.  I’ll have some water."
         Nikki nodded and headed for the kitchen.
         "And throw a double measure of Whisky in with it," she called but Nikki ignored her.  If she knew Nikki, any alcohol in the place would have been tipped away before leaving to come and get her.  Damn Jay, she thought angrily.  Why did he have to be so damned interfering.  If she’d been left alone she would have thrown up some more and then started drinking again.  It was a vicious cycle and she loved it.
         "When was the last time you ate?" Nikki asked, placing the water on the coffee table that separated the two sofas.  The one she sat on now had always been hers.  At times they had shared and cuddled up on both when they had been doing separate things this sofa had been hers.  She could almost feel the outline against the fabric that her body had sculpted during their two years together.
         "I can’t think about food," Alex groaned as her stomach began to roll.
         "I bet it’s been a while since you gave it a thought at all.  How long was this one?"
         Alex shrugged.  "A couple of days."
         "That’s