Aidan stays in attitude quite easily at the end of his performance.

No one claps. No one even so much as reacts. The ballet master alone makes any move at all and it’s only to circle Aidan once and then come to a stop with his arms folded across his chest and his eyes wide and staring.

“Thank you,” he says, allowing Aidan to relax, “but we received no word of you being allowed back here, Mr Wynne.”

Aidan meets his eyes lazily, already ...