Will strolls over over to the necromancy bench with newly restored rocking chair, sipping a cup of tea. "Hey, Keith! I was wondering if you could help me with this one. I've done the woodworking, but I think the owner would be really pleased if we could get a dead soul back into it again."
The voiceover interjects: "When Mary brought this in, she talked about how chair would rock by itself in the night, whispering dark enticements. She hasn't heard that voice in 30 years..."
Keith sucks his teeth as he looks over the chair. (Keith is wearing elaborately-embroidered robes.) "Oo, ay, well, it's in pretty bad shape, but I think I'll be able to do something with it. Leave it with me," he says, reaching behind him for the jar of newt's eyes.
Jay comes over later for a shuftie. "How's it going, Keith?" (With Jay's East End accent, it sounds more like "Ow's it goin, Keef?") "Wow, that's quite the smell!"
"Yeah, the fermented goat's blood can get pretty pungent! I'm just reaching the final stage here, about to start the incantation. Best stand in that salt circle over there."
Jay exclaims, "Ooo, the incantation! Nice! Can I help?"
Keith looks at him dubiously over his glasses. "Mmm, I dunno..."
"But I've been practicing my Enochian!" Jay says a word that blisters the air inside the salt circle. His pronunciation makes Keith wince.
Keith shoos Jay away. "Right, well, I'll leave you to it," Jay says. "But you'll have it done soon, yeah? The client's due back soon!"
Keith nods and grins as a black cloud forms over his workbench and the lights flicker.
When the client comes back to pick up her beloved heirloom, you can see, if you look closely, that the cloth covering it it actually hovering about an inch above it. They whip the cloth off (or does it whip itself off? hard to say).
The client exclaims, "Oh, it's just the right shade – like dried blood! I thought I'd never see that colour again!"
Will says, "Yeah, it came up beautifully, although it did make quite the mess of my bench!" They all chuckle.
Jay looks at her with a slight smile. "Now, when you came in, you told us about how this chair used to whisper to you in the night."
The client's eyes widen, "You didn't...you didn't manage to..."
Jay's eyes twinkle. He calls Keith over. "Keith, this is your work, you should do this bit!"
Keith comes over, grinning sheepishly, and says one last word. Strangely, as soon as he's said it, no one can remember what it was.
A voice starts muttering quietly about killing them all. "Oh..." the client says, choking up. She dabs her eyes.
"Is it like the voice you remember?" Jay asks gently.
"Oh yes," she replies. "It takes me right back to those long nights in my small attic room."
"Luckily, I was able to attract an actual Victorian spirit, just like the one that used to be there, we're guessing, based on the age of the piece and the arcane markings on the underside," Keith says. "So it should sound pretty similar to the original inhabitant."
"You're a miracle worker!" the client says, still fighting tears.
Keith laughs, "Well, maybe a demonic worker!" They all grin.
Keith looks at the client with mock sternness. "Now, you won't store this in a bright, airy room again, will you?"
"Oh no, it's going straight into my granddaughter's room, in the darkest corner!"
"Lovely," Keith says. "Look after it, and this spirit should last 100 years."
Outside the repair shop, the chair's owner speaks to the camera for a moment. "It just means so much to me, having this chair looking – and sounding! – just like it used to when I was little. I got it from my grandmother, and now I can give it to my granddaughter in good condition, fully haunted. Then she can give it to her granddaughter, in time. It's such an important tradition in my family. I can't say how much this means to me."
Her mouth opens and she looks, for a moment, like she's struggling to speak. You wonder if she's overcome by emotion again...or overcome by something else.
"I literally can not say it," she concludes.