'Ana goes over the Wall in exchange for a few files?' Daryl asked. 'Don't seem fair on the others I got waiting.'

Beth said nothing. She and Daryl watched each other closely, as if measuring the other up. He seemed like he knew what he was doing, and had the quiet assurance of someone who knew he did it well. She guessed that little escaped that sharp gaze of his. Why was he still in East Berlin? If he could get others out then why not go himself? Unless he liked running rings around the Stasi. The thrill of the hunt. Daryl didn't seem like the sort that could be domesticated.

He also didn't seem like a liar. If he said it was unfair to take Ana over the Wall in exchange for a few files then maybe it was. 'All right. What else do you want for Ana?'

Glenn leaned forward, his pale face agitated. 'Why has this become about Ana? This was supposed to be about us.'

Daryl stood. 'Seems like you need more time to talk about that.' He nodded to Beth. 'Factory girl. Be seein' you.'

Beth didn't know if it was a threat or a promise. He held her gaze for a moment and then strode out of the apartment.

Maggie, Glenn and Beth sat where they were for a few moments. Maggie stood up quickly and flipped the wireless off. Beth could tell from the tightness of her shoulders that she was angry. Glenn looked bereft. She realised that she'd just ruined their hopes for the future.

'I'm sorry,' she whispered. 'But shouldn't we talk –'

'Just don't say anything, Beth,' Maggie said quickly, and she and Glenn left Beth alone in the kitchen.

…

Just after six a.m., when Maggie and Beth were sitting at the table eating and Shawn was on the sofa in the next room blacking his boots, there was a knocking at the front door. Beth and Maggie immediately froze, staring at each other. Beth could tell that both of them were thinking about the clandestine conversation they'd had the night before. She imagined the Stasi on the other side of the door, ready to arrest them. She imagined Commandant Blake himself, his face grave and closed as he dragged the two sisters away.

They heard Shawn answer the door, talk for a moment with whoever it was, and then close it again. No one had stormed the apartment. Beth and Maggie began to breathe again.

Shawn came through to the kitchen carrying a package. 'For you, Beth.'

He put the carton by Beth's elbow, leaving a few smudges on it in black polish, and went back to the lounge.

Beth found a sharp knife and cut through the string and brown paper, and lifted the lid of the box. Inside were layers of tissue paper, and then pairs of silk stockings wrapped in thin card. Beth counted seven packets.

There was also a note, and it read,

For the prettiest girl at Stasi Headquarters.

Commandant P. Blake.

Beth felt herself blush. She passed the note to Maggie, who was craning her neck to see.

'Seven pairs, Maggie,' she breathed, looking at the delicate, pale peach fabric. 'We've never even owned one before. I owe Frau Grimes two pairs, and here are two for you.' She held them out for her sister but Maggie shook her head. 'Go on,' Beth laughed.

But Maggie only stood and took her plate to the sink, putting it down harder than necessary and stalking out of the room.

…

Beth couldn't remember ever feeling as low as she did when she arrived at Stasi Headquarters that morning. She felt like she was being pushed and pulled in so many different directions. She wasn't blind. East Berlin was not a happy place to live. Many lived almost in poverty, scraping together an existence without actually living. That had been their lives for many years now, even before the way. It hurt her heart to see the city and its people in such a state. This was the capital of Germany, and it felt as if it had been sliced up and left for dead.

Her sister was upset with her, because of the meeting with Daryl the night before, or the silk stockings, or something else. She knew it seemed like she'd missed the point by focusing Ana the night before with Daryl. If Maggie and Glenn wanted to get out of East Berlin they should go. But could Beth go too, knowing she'd have to break the law and work for Daryl in secret, and leave Shawn and Hershel behind? Once she and Maggie and Glenn left it would be forever. They'd never see Shawn and Hershel again.

It was too much to decide in a week, let alone the space of one furtive hour around the kitchen table.

When she got into the office she presented Frau Grimes with her two pairs of stockings. Frau Grimes took them with a look of surprise. 'He sent them to your apartment? No, you should be wearing a pair. He'll notice,' the woman said, trying to give one packet back.

Beth pressed both pairs into her hands. 'It's all right, he sent me seven pairs.'

'Seven pairs?' She gave Beth an amused look. 'He must like you.'

Beth blushed. She remembered Daryl's insinuation of the night before, that Commandant Blake only wanted her around so that he could sleep with her. But the commandant wasn't like that. When he smiled at her it was a genuine smile, and he was never inappropriate with her. Not everyone in the Stasi had to be frightening.

Beth shook her head. 'I think he probably just guessed that I've never owned a pair before.' She spied a fashion magazine on Frau Grimes' desk. It was in German but the pictures were glossy and the models wore clothes like she'd never seen before. 'Oh, how pretty,' Beth exclaimed, looking at the dresses. 'Can you buy things like these here?'

'These? God no. This magazine is from West Germany. I take the pictures to a dressmaker I know and get her to copy the designs for me. She gets fabric straight from Italy. A lot of Party and Stasi wives and girlfriends go to her.'

Beth assumed from her name that Frau Grimes had been married, but there had been no sign of a man living in her flat when she'd been at the woman's house and no ring on her finger.

'There's a birthday celebration for a senior Party member in a few days' time and my boyfriend Shane is taking me. He's in the Party.' Frau Grimes tapped a picture of an off-the-shoulder chiffon gown with a long, narrow skirt. 'My dressmaker is copying this for me to wear.'

Beth stroked the glossy paper, imagining she could feel the chiffon beneath her fingers. How much would such a dress cost? How many families could have proper food on the table for that amount of money?

Commandant Blake came out of his office and they both jumped guiltily at being caught looking at a magazine. Frau Grimes recovered first. 'Good morning, commandant. How are you today?'

He greeted her politely while Beth went round to her desk and sat behind her typewriter. Beth looked at him surreptitiously, admiring the fit of his uniform over his broad back.

The commandant spied the magazine open on her desk. 'Frau Grimes, will you be attending Comrade Braun's birthday party with Comrade Walsh?'

Frau Grimes smiled prettily up at him. 'Why, yes. I hope to see you there, commandant.'

He turned to Beth with a smile. 'Indeed you will. And you, Fraulein Greene?'

She noticed how he called her Beth in private but the more formal Fraulein Greene in company. 'Oh, no,' she said with a light laugh. 'I have never even met Comrade Braun.'

'That doesn't matter, as long as you have a partner with an invitation.' he paused, studying her face. 'Perhaps you would like to accompany me?'

His invitation was so unexpected that Beth's mouth feel open. She'd assumed that the commandant was married, or at least was seeing someone. Over the commandant's shoulder she saw Frau Grimes nod her head urgently, as if Beth had better say yes if she knew what was good for her. Beth found herself stammering out an assent.

'Good.' He straightened, smiling at her. 'Good. Frau Grimes, you know the good dressmakers, don't you?'

'The best,' she affirmed.

'Then please take Fraulein Greene to one you think most suitable for evening wear, and charge what she will need to my account. You know the sort of thing I like.'

Beth opened her mouth to protest, that she couldn't possibly accept, but he was already affixing his cap to his head and saying, 'I shall be out for the rest of the day.' He strode out of the office.

She felt sick and terrified. A senior Party official's birthday. These weren't the sort of people she was used to.

Frau Grimes stood, brandishing the magazine. There was an excited expression on her face. 'Leave that,' she said, indicating the sheet of paper Beth was reaching for to feed into her typewriter. 'We have more important things to do.'

…

'They're here.'

Beth felt her stomach clench with nerves. She was in Frau Grimes' apartment, standing in the middle of the room, going to pieces. Her hair was hanging in loose, golden curls and her face was fully made up for the first time in her life. Frau Grimes had done it, painting on the winged eyeliner and pale pink lipstick with an expert hand.

Frau Grimes twitched the curtain back into place and turned round. She looked beautiful in the grey chiffon gown and perfectly at ease. 'We'll wait five minutes before going down,' she said, adjusting her gloves.

'Isn't that rude?' Beth asked, tugging at the neckline of her gown. She felt exposed. It was a strapless dress in beaded cream chiffon that nipped in at the waist and fell to the floor. She wore with it long white satin gloves that went up over her elbows and Italian leather heels. The bill had been enormous. She was sure Commandant Blake was going to be furious, but Frau Grimes and the dressmaker had talked over her till she'd given in.

She did like the dress, but she hadn't got much say in that, either. Frau Grimes had done most of the talking and deciding, saying that she knew the commandant's tastes. Beth remembered what he'd said to Frau Grimes: You know the sort of thing I like. What about what she liked?

'No, it's what they will expect. Now stop worrying at that dress. You look beautiful.'

A few minutes later they went downstairs, each of them with a fur-lined wrapper over their shoulders to keep off the chill. Commandant Blake and Comrade Walsh were waiting by a large black car, the commandant in his dress uniform, and the tall, dark-haired Comrade Walsh in a tuxedo.

Beth felt herself blush as she walked toward the commandant, ducking her head but not before she saw his smile and the look of warm admiration in his eyes.

'Nervous?' he murmured to her as she took the arm he offered.

She nodded. More nervous than she'd been in her life.

'You needn't be. Everyone there is going to be less interesting and far less beautiful than you.' He winked at her, and she felt herself relax a little. The commandant was friendly, just as he always had been. She couldn't help compare him with Comrade Walsh. The man was good-looking and clearly enamoured of Frau Grimes, whispering in her ear and making her laugh. But Beth thought that her date was superior: striking and poised, as well has handsome. Comrade Walsh seemed just a little too boyish.

The black car took them to a restaurant in a part of town that Beth had never been to before. It was an older building that had survived the war, which made it a rarity in itself. Inside it was all plush red velvet and brass fittings that had been polished to a high shine. Beth had never seen so many fine, well-dressed people all together in one room before. It was like being in another country. The longer she stared the more uncomfortable she felt. Surely all this decadence went against exactly what the Communist Party believed in, and yet here were the echelons of the Party itself.

'Will you be all right here for a moment?' the commandant asked her, taking her over to a table draped with white linen. 'I need to speak to someone quite tedious. I won't be long.'

Beth sat at one of the tables that lined the walls, happy to have a quiet moment to herself. The floor had been cleared and people were milling about. She watched the waiters in their dark suits glide about the room with trays of drinks; the candlelight glimmering on the ladies' jewels; the military uniforms and tuxedos. Less than a week ago she'd been a factory girl. She was, really, still a factory girl, as Daryl liked to remind her. An expensive dress didn't change where she'd come from.

'Champagne, fraulein?' A waiter was at her elbow with two saucers of champagne on a silver tray.

She reached for one and her eyes flicked to the waiter's face as she thanked him, and she froze. Daryl's sharp eyes stared down at her, his dark hair framing his face.

'Goddamn it, factory girl,' he growled when she didn't move, 'take the champagne.'

Beth remembered herself and took the glass in her gloved fingers. She looked back at the crowd, lifting the glass to her lips as she said, 'What are you doing here?'

'Waitin' on our illustrious leaders.' His eyes were sharp as he said, 'What are you doin' here? Never mind. As you're here you can help me help Ana.'

Beth's heart sank. Here? What was she supposed to do?

He looked at the other glass on his tray. 'Take it. Give it to the commandant.'

She reached for it slowly. 'Why?'

'I put a cyanide capsule in it.'

Beth stared at him, aghast. It was too much. She couldn't be part of the murder of a Stasi officer. And not Commandant Blake. He'd been nothing but kind to her.

Daryl stared at her a moment longer, glint in his eye. 'Gotcha.' Then he was moving on, refilling glassing, smiling politely at the guests. Beth watched him go, fuming. How could he joke about such things? It was hard to believe that this smooth, deferential waiter was the same man who'd sat in her kitchen, grimy and insolent, plotting with them against the government. He'd appeared in disguise at her office and now at this party. Was there nowhere he couldn't infiltrate?

Beth's face was still burning with annoyance when the commandant came back to her, and with him Comrade Walsh and Frau Grimes. Beth quickly arranged her face into a smile, and was relieved when Frau Grimes sat beside her and the two men sat on the other side and began talking to one another.

'Are you enjoying yourself?'

'Frau Grimes, I feel so out of place,' Beth confessed.

'Well you don't look out of place,' the woman said. 'And please, call me Lori. How do you like your champagne?'

It was very different to anything Beth had had before. Dry and fizzy, but with a sweet after taste. She listened to Lori chatter about the people in the room, who they were and what they did, while her eyes followed Daryl. She knew she shouldn't watch him. It could be dangerous for both of them if anyone noticed she was paying him too much attention. But her eyes kept returning to him. He moved like a shadow through the crowd, alert and watchful. She remembered how quickly he'd disappeared into the gloom the night she'd first seen him.

'Frau Grimes.'

Beth turned to see a man standing before her and Lori. He was tall and tuxedoed with piercing blue eyes and a full mouth. His sculpted cheekbones and broad shoulders made him handsome, and there was something trustworthy in those eyes. Something pained, as well, as he looked at Lori.

'Comrade Grimes,' Lori said, looking disconcerted. 'May I present Fraulein Greene? She works with me at the headquarters.'

Comrade Grimes gave Beth a warm smile before turning back to … his wife? Or ex-wife. Beth was aware without needing to look that the two men they had come with had stopped talking.

The man gave Lori a look like he wished to say more, but she wouldn't meet his eyes, and he moved on.

'My ex-husband,' Lori said in a low voice. 'We separated six months ago. Not long before the Wall went up, actually. Though at the time I was too distraught to notice much of what was happening around me.'

'I'm sorry,' Beth said, because Lori seemed to be genuinely agitated. She watched Comrade Grimes walk away from them. He seemed to be at the party alone.

'Thank you. It was a difficult break-up. One of those that's nobody's fault, really. I lost the baby I was carrying, and …' She made a hopeless gesture. 'Nothing seemed right after that.'

Beth took her hand, comforting the woman, and was about to speak when she saw Daryl approach Comrade Grimes, proffering a tray of champagne. Grimes took a glass, but dropped something small and folded onto the tray as he did. Then he turned away as Daryl palmed whatever it was and continued his circuit round the room.

Daryl was up to something.

'Handsome, isn't he,' Lori said with a small, sad smile, mistaking the reason for Beth's staring at her ex-husband. 'A very good man, too.'

Beth struggled for something to say to cover her shock. 'Comrade Walsh seems nice.'

'Oh, he's a wonderful man. He was there for me in my darkest hours. I don't know what I would have done without him.'

Dancing began, but Beth shook her head and stayed firmly in her seat whenever Commandant Blake leaned across and suggested they join in. She had never danced properly in her life.

He laughed at her third, terrified refusal. 'Then take a walk with me in the fresh air.'

That Beth thought she could do, and when the commandant had fetched her wrap they walked to the back of the room, through a door and out onto a terrace. There were braziers burning and several other couples standing in the moonlight. It was a clear, crisp night, and they walked to the stone balustrades and looked out onto East Berlin. Lights glimmered in the windows of the houses. Warm, yellow light that made Beth think of families and comfort and home. Beyond that, though, was the hard white light of the floodlights that lit the Wall. She looked away from the concrete barrier, disconcerted.

'Are you having a good time?' Blake asked.

'It is lovely, though I do find it a little overwhelming. I had no idea there were parties like this in East Berlin.'

He smiled. 'Every now and then.'

She glanced again at the Wall. Was it dangerous even to mention it? Despite who he was, despite his uniform, Beth felt she could trust Commandant Blake. 'Do you remember the morning the Wall went up?' she asked in a soft voice. It hadn't been a wall right away, of course. One evening in August, just a few months hence, East German troops had started massing on the border, and then when Beth had woken the next morning there was barbed wire three feet high and over a hundred miles long cutting a swathe through the city, splitting it in half from north to south. Some people had taken their chance then, waiting for a moment when the guards weren't looking and then leaping over the wire to the West. Even some of the guards fled that way.

His face was unreadable in the moonlight. 'Of course. I think everyone in East Berlin remembers that.'

Beth went on, hesitatingly, ready to bite her tongue if she saw reproach on the commandant's face. 'I ... I couldn't help but be frightened when I saw it. It felt like we were being punished all over again for what Hitler did. We lost the war and the Soviets have helped us rebuild and given us jobs ... but still it feels so hard on the people of East Berlin to trap us like this.'

His eyes were soft, and Beth felt relieved. She'd been right to trust him.

'Your love for your people is admirable, Beth,' he said.

She gave him a tentative smile. 'I wasn't sure if I should say anything, but I thought you would understand. I love my city and the people here.'

'As do I. But promise me something, Beth. You can talk to me about anything. Anything at all, even if it feels dangerous. But please take care to talk to only me. There are people who would not like to hear a young woman talk so. I'm thinking of your safety.'

Beth nodded. 'Thank you, commandant.' She was touched by his concern. It occurred to her that he might be able to find out what happened to her father. He might even be able to arrange a visit for her and her siblings, and find out what the charge against Hershel was. Daryl couldn't do that. Daryl could get into parties and pose as delivery men, but he didn't have the power that the commandant had.

He touched her cheek and she found herself caught by in warm blue gaze. Her heart fluttered in her chest. She'd never been kissed by anyone before, and as naïve as she was she knew that was what he intended as his hand slid to the small of her back. She let herself be drawn toward him, liking the warmth of his hand and the spicy male scent of him. He dropped his head and his lips touched hers. It was a gentle kiss, slow and expert, and Beth could feel her body respond to him.

Her eyes drifted closed – and then there was an almighty crash, and the commandant leapt away from her and let out a yelp. There was a waiter standing at his shoulder and a tray of smashed champagne glasses at his feet.

'You idiot, you've dropped them all down my leg.' He turned back to Beth, reining in his anger. 'Excuse me. I'll be back in a moment.'

'I'll escort the lady to her table,' the waiter called after him.

Daryl. She might have guessed. She opened her mouth to tell him what she thought of his interruption but he rounded on her with such a look of fury in his eyes that the words froze in her throat.

'What the hell d'you think you're playin' at?' he snarled down at her.

...

Geez, Daryl is pissed, right? Think he might be sub-consciously ... jealous? :)

So, confession: when The Governor is being charming and not a psychopathic power-hungry megalomanic I find him to be a total freaking lady-killer. Andrea in Woodbury so would have been me. I reeeeeeally enjoyed writing the kiss in today's chapter. What did you think of it?

I posted a photo of The Governor to Facebook last week saying he was my favourite love-to-hate-but-also-secretly-love villain, and all my friends told me that I was insane, The Governor is evil, and hellooooo Daryl is obviously the man-candy on TWD. MY DEARS. OBVIOUSLY it's all about Daryl and my love for him burns eternal. But frankly, I think The Governor is hot. Also total fangirl moment - I just booked tickets to see David Morrissey (who plays The Governor) in a play this December called The Hangman. He's going to be amazing.

What's your opinion - is The Governor totally climbable, or can you not look past his, um, lapses in morality? Or is he just not your type?