Henry Neville: The Geist Therapist

Mr Dibbs And His Persistent Mother

Eight days had passed since the incident at the docks and the rescue of the sixteen children. In that time, the therapist had helped seven lost spirits find their way to the world beyond with his new assistant, Polly. They were becoming quite a team.

The day started like any ordinary morning. Henry had promised to make tea but then got so lost in his studies that the task was picked up by Polly. In the late afternoon, a knock like any other brought Henry's attention and he opened the door to the next potential client on his doorstep. A gentleman of middle class status shuffled uneasily in his presence. "Yes, sir," Henry started.

"May I talk, Mr Neville?" The man said.

"You may come in first, Mr?"

The man cleared his throat. "Dibbs, sir. Mr Dibbs."

Henry ushered Mr Dibbs into the living room.

"Mr Neville, I require your time to attend my address in Richmond," Mr Dibbs tapped his bowler hat as he entered the host's living room.

"For what do I owe this attendance?"

Mr Dibbs sat in the armchair closest to the fireplace and admired the decorating, "I see you went for the scheele's green." He eyed the floral wallpaper carefully.

"Temporary, given the latest findings it is due to come down by weeks end."

Mr Dibbs nodded, "Very well."

Henry sat opposite his guest, "So what service can I offer you?"

"My mother is currently sat in my living room. She's taken to reading my morning newspapers."

"Women are very adept at reading, Mr Dibbs. What of it?"

Mr Dibbs gave a ghoulish look into Henry's eyes. He let out a scoff as he did not know how to approach the subject, or even how to become accepting of it, "She died seven years ago. She was buried several miles away north of Watford."

Henry waited a moment before replying, "She's not supposed to be there."

"Do you not think I know that, Mr Neville?"

Henry's guest was clearly disturbed. He decided he should be more cautious, "So is Mrs Dibbs no longer welcome in the family house?"

"It's queer, Mr Neville. My mother barely looks our way, she does not speak and moves items to her pleasing," he scoffed again, "We are awaken to all sorts of frolicking and bangs. It is most unusual."

"What does your wife say of the matter?"

"She is most frightfully scared. We barely sleep a wink at night."

Henry stood back up and reached for the glass cupboard, pulling out two small glasses and a bottle of brandy. He poured two shots and handed one to his guest, "Most people find comfort in a loved one returning to them, why are you not comforted?"

Mr Dibbs swallowed, "I love my mother, God rest her soul, but we have said our goodbyes and she has departed. I am not comfortable having her spirit, or whatever it is, haunting our estate now."

Henry knocked back his shot of brandy and poured another one before speaking again, "What is it you would like me to achieve for you?"

"Come and do whatever it is you do. Catch the spirit, send it on its way. Just get rid of it."

"That's not how I work, good sir, but you can consider me employed."

Mr Dibbs spoke as if a heavy strain had been lifted. "Thank you so much, Mr Neville. I will pay what will be due.

Henry reached for his coat and flat cap. "Payment will be arranged with my assistant Miss Polly, but for now please show me the spirit at your estate."

"The black woman that works for you?" Mr Dibbs said with an air of contempt, "You trust a servant with your finances?"

"Miss Polly is a free woman of whom I owe my life to. If anyone is to serve, it is me to her."

"Queer tidings indeed," Mr Dibbs retorted as he made to follow Henry out of the door.

"Lead the way to Richmond, Mr Dibbs." Henry said moving the conversation away from his assistant.

"I have a coach ready to take us the way," Mr Dibbs said and whistled. A carriage and driver instantly came up the street from a little way down.

Thirty five minutes later, the coach dropped the two gentlemen outside the residence of Henry's new client. In that short time he learnt as much information as he could about the elderly Mrs Dibbs and began putting a plan in place on how to approach her spirit.

Mr Dibbs pulled out a large set of keys from his coat, picked one out and proceeded to open the unlock the door to his home. Henry followed him inside.

"Darling!" Mr Dibbs called. "He's here!"

A short plump woman with glasses and tied back hair came out of the kitchen to greet them.

Henry bowed, "Mrs Dibbs," he nodded. "I've come to speak to your mother in law. Have you seen her today?"

"I'm sure she is about somewhere, she's taken to reading my husband's morning papers."

"Excellent, show me where this occurs," Henry beamed.

"You're a little excitable aren't you, Mr Neville?" Mrs Dibbs said with a frown.

Mr Dibbs cleared his throat, "He came with good recommendations. I'm told this is the chap that can get rid of hauntings."

Henry blushed, "Flattered, Mr Dibbs. Now about your mother. Does most of the activity happen through here?" He asked as he entered the front room without an invitation.

The fireplace was burning through finely chopped logs. Henry found this strange since it was August but said nothing of it. He examined the portraits on the wall and found one of an elderly woman, "Is this your mother?" He asked Mr Gibbs.

"Yes, sir," the man replied.

"And her full name please?"

It was Mr Dibbs turn to frown, he was very much a man of formality, "Mrs Marianne Dibbs, but she liked to go by the name Mary."

"Thank you, Mr Dibbs. I'll take it from here," Henry approached the small round table next to an old cushioned armchair. He brushed his hand along the smooth wooden surface and lightly touched the newspaper sat on top of it, "Is this the spot where she likes to sit?"

"The very one," replied Mr Dibbs.

Henry nodded then called out with a raised pitch in his voice, "Mary! Mary Dibbs!" He waited for a reply but none came. He turned and stared at Mr Dibbs.

"She moves things all over the house but she is usually seen in here," Mr Dibbs shifted uncomfortably.

"Does it occur more frequently in the morn-" Henry started before three heavy knocks on the floorboards above them stopped him mid sentence. "Who else is in the house?"

Mrs Dibbs answered, "No one, sir. The children are grown and away at university."

"Then I can assume the creaking of the stairs I hear is the late Mrs Dibbs?" Henry asked rhetorically.

Mr and Mrs Dibbs said nothing as they waited in anticipation for the arrival of the late mother.

The iced chill came first, Henry could feel it in his breath. The curtains lifted and fell as if struck by a sudden gust. A faint glow of blue filled the doorway and then she entered. The face was difficult to make out but Henry recognised the withered withdrawn features of the portraits. She wore a long black dress that Henry guessed to be of early nineteenth century fashion. Ignoring all of the living people the spirit glided across the floor and sat in the armchair next to Henry.

"She does not talk or acknowledge us most of the time," Mr Dibbs spoke apologetically like he was afraid he was wasting Henry's time.

Henry knelt down next to the late Mrs Dibbs. She continued to ignore Henry until at last he spoke, "Mary, I am Dr Neville. Henry if you please."

Mr and Mrs Dibbs were astonished to see the old spirit look directly into Henry's eyes; she had never looked at the couple directly during her haunting.

"How are you, Mary?" Henry asked but with no answer. "Can you tell me why you have come back to the family home?"

"She does not talk, Mr Neville," Mr Dibbs pointed out.

"Not to fools," the old lady responded coldly.

"Excuse me, mother!" Mr Dibbs scoffed.

"Talk to me," replied Henry. He held up a hand to signal Mr Dibbs to stay put and quiet.

"What do you want, Neville?" She said in her same single tone, cold and unemotional. Henry noted the lack of title in the spirit's words.

"Your son has hired me to find out what disturbs your rest. Will you not tell me?"

"What happens if I tell you, Neville?"

Mr Dibbs stiffened, "How are you doing this, Mr Neville?" He was becoming increasingly more uncomfortable with hearing his late mother's voice again.

"I won't bore you with the details but some spirits, like your mother, are restricted to basic social interactions, meaning they cannot speak to the living. They are almost unaware of your presence and can ignore you entirely. I have the ability to talk to the dead, especially those whose spirits are not strong enough to interact with living humans."

"Like a psychic?" The young Mrs Dibbs asked. "Do you know Lady Godiva, the medium?"

"Yes, we cross paths, and swords, from time to time but no, I am not a psychic, I am a scientist," Henry turned back to the spirit in the armchair, "I am the only one that can resolve your problem. If you tell me I can fix it and you can return to your peaceful rest."

"The fool, the fool," she repeated coldly.

"Master Dibbs, your son?"

"One should not speak when one does not know, Neville," again there was no change in her voice.

"I agree with you on that, Mary," Henry replied softly, "However, I am here to learn from you. Will you please tell why your son is a fool?"

"I don't agree with this conv-" Mr Dibbs started but was cut short by an abrupt hush from the scientist.

Mary continued, "Could never do right for doing wrong that boy. Was ever such a sweet boy was my Peter. Now he is about to lose it all, taking a stupid gamble."

Henry looked at Peter Dibbs, "I assume you know what she's talking about?"

Mr Dibbs shrugged his shoulders, "I haven't a clue, Mr Neville," he replied. At this moment his wife left the room.

Mary continued speaking, "I met a lovely young lass under a hill, Lucy her name."

"Mr Dibbs?" Henry spoke uncertainly.

"Rambling, she was terrible for it when she was alive," he replied.

"She showed me a little grey box and warned me about the merger my son is about to oversee," Mary's tone still did not change.

"The merger?" Cried Mr Dibbs, "How do you know about that? That's work business, nothing to worry about from beyond the grave."

Mrs Dibbs continued to address Henry, "Shady business men she called them; dodgy dealings down by the docks. Looking to take Peter's money and kick him out of the proceedings."

"Why have you not told your son all this already?" Henry asked, they both then turned to Mr Dibbs. A smile creased the old spirit's face slightly as if suddenly now only realizing her son was in the room.

"The business deal is legitimate, I have seen the contracts and I'm near to signing them. I don't understand the meaning of this," Mr Dibbs replied.

"He did not know how to listen," replied Mary.

The younger, living Mrs Dibbs re-entered the room. She was carrying documents and went straight to her husband, "Does she mean the deal you have with that Mallory?" she asked.

This caught Henry's attention "I know that name."

"He owns a company by the docks of Chelsea. He is looking for investors for his new shipping business."

"Only he intends to rob them of their resources and dispose of them," Mary added.

Henry nodded to each of their words, "We've been there, my colleague and I. Very dangerous men run those docks. Mallory is just the tip of the iceberg."

"Excuse me, everyone!" Mr Dibbs shouted frustratedly, "I think we're getting a bit too carried away here. Mr Neville, you're the scientist, I am the business man. I think I'd know if I was receiving a foul deal," he said crossly.

"I do not disagree, Mr Dibbs, but I think I can finally piece together the connections here now," replied Henry.

"How so?" Replied Mr and Mrs Dibbs together.

Henry took a swig of gin from his belt before continuing, "Your mother wants you to stop this merger of your company with that of Mallory's, someone whose other plans I have helped thwart recently. Mary has returned to you at a time a large number of spirits have returned to their loved ones. Something or someone is helping them return and I'd put a wager on this spirit called Lucy being somewhat behind them. Your mother knew I could help you but could not communicate, she's been reading the papers to find news of the merger. She likely knew I had previous business with Mallory's men."

Mr Dibbs stiffened, "What type of plans have you thwarted?"

"Kidnapping children for labour," replied Henry sternly.

A loud gulp could be heard from Mr Dibbs' throat, "It may be too late to back out now, the paperwork is all but signed."

"Then use that, good sir," replied Henry. "Allow my assistant, Polly to take a look at the contract. Just do not sign your business over to Mallory."

"I need wine to mull over these thoughts," Mr Dibbs replied and turned to face a liquor cabinet against the wall behind him.

"What do you think, Ma-" Henry started but was surprised to see the armchair was empty. The late Mrs Dibbs had disappeared. Henry turned back to the married couple, "That may be her done. They don't always hang around to say farewell."

"What happens now?" Mr Dibbs asked.

"Now you tear up that contract. Do not under any circumstances go into business with unsavoury man. Then you pay me my bill."

Mr Dibbs scoffed, "What's this going to cost me?"

"Seeing as how I have just helped save you a fortune I will reflect it in the invoice," Henry smiled. "But if it satisfies, when you next speak to the man tell him you took advice from Henry Neville. He may not know me but he will." His smile broadened.

"Thank you, Mr Neville," Mrs Dibbs said softly.

"Yes, thank you I suppose," Mr Dibbs said not quite as softly.

"Sir, ma'am, good afternoon," Henry replied and left the couple to dwell on their new learnings. He on the other hand had new connections to link together. There was an increase in every day, average, spirits returning from the beyond. That was the second that had some sort of dealing with Mallory or his crew, and then there was the woman at the centre of it all bringing it all together.

"Lucy," Henry muttered to himself. He was already outside before he realised so he jumped into the next available carriage for home; all the while pondering how long it will be until Mallory or his men traced him down.

***