Excerpt from The Ballroom by Anna Hope, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

"Andhewasthe.?.?."

"Wouldyoutaketheelectricity.?.?."

"Reek! Reek! Didmeagreatfrightand.?.?."

"But that's it, where the spiritscomeintome.?.?."

As the sky started to lighten, the chorus got louder, and Old Germany in the bed beside her was the loudest of the lot, a terrible songbird greeting the dawn. A bell clanged at the top of the room. But there was movement at least, something happening, Ella could see a woman at the far end, dressed in uniform like those who had brought her here last night, and she slipped out of her bed, walking fast down the middle of the room. "I've to speak to someone."

"What's that?" The woman was plump, her face thick with sleep.

"Someone in charge."

"I'm in charge." The woman smoothed her uniform out over her belly. She lifted her watch, began to wind it up.

"Where am I?"

"You don't know?" The woman smiled at the round face of her watch as though the two of them were sharing a nice little joke. Another bell rang, louder, somewhere outside the room. The women began to swarm and press themselves into lines. Ella put her thumbs in her palms. For a moment she was back at work—-seven in the morning and everyone rushing up the hill so as not to be late, not to have their pay docked—-the metal--tasting panic in the mouth. Jim Christy, the penny hoil man, standing at the gate, waiting to shut it in your face on the stroke of seven.

"You should wait till you've eaten something."

She turned to see a tall pale girl at her elbow.

"Never fight on an empty stomach." The girl had a quick, easy smile. "Come on." She touched her on the arm. "I can show you the way."

Ella shook her off. She didn't need friends. Especially not in here.

She followed the crowd into a large, echoing room, where the women were taking seats on benches set before long wooden tables. One side of the room was all doors, and at each of the doors stood a woman with one of those sets of keys. The other side was all windows, but the panes were tiny, so even if you broke one you'd only get your wrist through.

"Sit down." She was given a shove by a passing woman in uniform. A bowl clattered onto the table before her.

"Porridge," said the pale girl, who was sitting on the other side of the table. "There's milk. Here." She lifted a large pitcher and poured some for herself, then did the same for Ella. "The food's not so bad."

A young, dark--haired woman sitting beside Ella leaned toward them. "It's mice," she said, pointing toward the porridge. "They put them through t'feeder." Her face was gray and sunken. She seemed to have no teeth.

Ella pushed her bowl away. Her stomach was cramping with hunger, but if she ate here, then it was inside her. It was real. And wherever this was, it wasn't real.

"You've hurt your cheek," said the pale girl.

"I know."

"You should get it seen to." The girl tilted her head to one side. "I'm Clem," she said, and held out her hand.

Ella didn't move.

"Your eyes look bad too."

"They're grand."

"They don't look grand."

"Can I take yours?" Mouse--woman's breath was hot on Ella's arm.

Ella nodded, and the woman curled the bowl toward her.

There must have been five hundred women in there, and it was noisier than the mill with all the machines going. An old lady on the other side of the table was crooning to a rolled--up shawl, rocking it in her arms, shushing it, reaching out with a finger and touching it. A uniformed woman walking up and down the lines stood over her and rapped her on the shoulder. "Give over with that rubbish and eat your food."

The old lady shook her head. "Not till babby's eaten first." She began to unbutton her dress.

Excerpted from The Ballroom by Anna Hope. Copyright © 2016 by Anne Hope. Excerpted by permission of Random House, A Penguin Random House Company. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.