‘Not all who fought for the South did so over slavery. I had my own reasons for taking up arms against the North—’ Caleb broke off, aware that the gazes of everyone at the table were fixed on him with expressions of surprise, horror and embarrassment. He adjusted the knife and fork on his plate and cleared his throat. ‘My humble apologies. I should not have brought such dark talk to this festive table.’

‘Indeed.’ Johnson pushed back his chair, while making a show of checking his pocket watch. ‘I am expected at the Russells’ to take tea. Please excuse me, Mrs Greaves, and thank you for a wonderful meal.’

Adelaide saw the Reverend Johnson to the door. Netty and Amos began to clear the table with Danny’s help and retired to the kitchen, leaving Caleb alone.

When Adelaide returned, she swept the cloth from the table, shaking it in Caleb’s direction with rather more force than the dispersal of crumbs required.

‘That was unforgiveable of me, I am sorry, Adelaide,’ Caleb mumbled, catching the end of the cloth and helping her fold it.

When she didn’t respond, deep regret settled on him. Christmas seemed to have brought out the worst in him.

‘It’s not you. The conversation showed me a side of Reverend Johnson I’d not seen before,’ Adelaide said at last.

Caleb handed her the folded cloth and sat, rubbing his leg. ‘When I was a boy, I had a friend on the neighbouring property. His name was William and we’d roam the woods and fields doing what boys do. He was smart but he had no learning, so I would teach him the things I learned in school. Then he started teaching me. He’d help me with my mathematics and he was much smarter than I could ever hope to be. Then one day, he didn’t turn up at our usual meeting place and when I asked my father, he told me William and his family had been sold to a plantation in Alabama. Sold. I had no concept that William was a slave or that he was in any way different from me. He was my friend. I never saw him again. If William had been white with all the simple privileges I enjoyed, like an education, he could have done great things. Instead, if he lived, he ended up in a field, picking cotton.’

‘But there’s no slavery now. He’d be a free man,’ Adelaide said.

Caleb shrugged. ‘I pray to God that he is and that what little learning we shared has allowed him to make a new life, but the reality is many slaves had no choice but to stay on the plantations where they had been born and raised. I just hope they now receive a decent wage and work in the knowledge that they are free to leave.’