The Thornton Heath Poltergeist

A Suburban Haunting in the Shadow of War. Beverstone Road, Croydon, London, 1938

In February 1938, as Europe teetered on the brink of war and Adolf Hitler prepared to annex Austria, British newspapers made space for a different kind of terror. A modest terraced house in Thornton Heath, a respectable suburb in south London, had become the site of inexplicable disturbances. Flying crockery, materialising objects, and violent manifestations centred on one woman transformed 93 Beverstone Road into what the press called “the house of fear”. For several months, the Thornton Heath poltergeist commanded national attention, drawing psychical researchers, spiritualist mediums, newspaper reporters, and crowds of curious spectators to a quiet residential street in Croydon.

The case would become one of the most extensively documented paranormal investigations in British history. Unlike fleeting apparitions or ambiguous sounds in the night, the phenomena at Beverstone Road involved sustained physical effects witnessed by multiple trained observers. A thirty-four-year-old housewife named Alma Fielding stood at the centre of events that defied easy explanation and would ultimately reveal uncomfortable truths about trauma, deception, and the desperate yearnings of a society seeking meaning in an age of profound anxiety.

The Setting

Thornton Heath occupies a position in south London within the borough of Croydon, approximately six miles south of the city centre. By the 1930s, the area had become typical of the interwar London suburbs that housed the capital’s expanding working-class and lower-middle-class populations. The streets were lined with Victorian and Edwardian terraced houses, narrow dwellings that stood shoulder to shoulder, their small front gardens enclosed by low brick walls.

Beverstone Road exemplified this suburban ordinariness. Number 93 was indistinguishable from its neighbours. The Fielding household kept their home in the fashion of the time, cluttered with ornaments and knick-knacks. They owned a telephone, still considered something of a luxury, marking them as aspirational within their social stratum. This was an environment designed for stability, predictability, and quiet domesticity. It seemed an unlikely setting for the violent supernatural manifestations that would soon erupt.

The Fielding Family

Alma Fielding was thirty-four years old when the disturbances began. Contemporary accounts described her as a brunette with what investigators noted as “an admixture of Spanish blood”. Her life had been marked by persistent health problems. Kidney complaints had plagued her since childhood, requiring ongoing management with antibacterial medicines and sedatives.

Her husband, Leslie Fielding, worked as a builder and decorator. Known as Les, he was a Great War veteran who woke regularly with nightmares, his sleep disrupted by memories of combat two decades after the armistice. The couple’s son, Donald, was seventeen years old in February 1938. The household also included a lodger named George Saunders, who worked as a cobbler. Taking in lodgers was common practice among working-class families seeking to supplement their income.

The Disturbances Begin

Sunday, 13 February 1938 marked the beginning of events that would transform the Fielding household from anonymous suburban obscurity to national notoriety. The day itself had been difficult even before the phenomena commenced. Alma had been confined to bed for several days with a severe flare-up of her kidney condition. Les had also been unwell, suffering severe bleeding following a dental extraction.

That Sunday afternoon, Alma felt well enough to visit friends in the neighbourhood. During the visit, she was suddenly seized by a sharp pain in her pelvis, accompanied by trembling and burning fever. Concerned, she hurried home and returned to bed.

Later that evening, with both Alma and Les in their bedroom, the first manifestation occurred. Alma noticed a handprint forming on the mirror of her dressing table. The print was distinctive and deeply disturbing. It showed six fingers instead of the normal five. As she stared at the impossible mark, and as Les confirmed he could see it too, any hope that this was mere delusion evaporated.

What happened next shattered the quiet suburban evening. The eiderdown on their bed began to move of its own accord, shifting and billowing as though invisible hands were manipulating the fabric. Glass tumblers lifted into the air and flew across the room, smashing against walls. Light bulbs exploded. A mysterious breeze blew through the closed room, carrying a dank, unpleasant odour.

Don, hearing the clatter and his parents’ cries, came to investigate. As he reached the bedroom door, objects were hurled in his direction with considerable force. A pot of face cream flew at his head with enough velocity that it would have caused serious injury had it struck him. George, the lodger, emerged from his room to find coins materialising from nowhere and striking him as he stood bewildered in the hallway.

The family spent a sleepless night as the disturbances continued without respite. By dawn, the household was exhausted and frightened, facing a situation that seemed to have no rational explanation.

The Phenomena Intensify

The disturbances did not cease with daylight. Over the days that followed, the activity intensified in both frequency and violence. Crockery became a particular focus of the manifestations. Plates, cups, and saucers flew off shelves without being touched, sailing through the air and smashing against walls or floors. Saucers held in Alma’s hands would suddenly split cleanly in two. Glasses shattered whilst people were drinking from them.

Kitchen implements joined the aerial bombardment. Saucepans launched themselves across rooms. A brass fender from the fireplace propelled itself up the stairs, bouncing and clanging as it ascended. Pieces of coal levitated from the grate and crashed into walls with enough force to leave impact marks on the plaster. Food items became part of the phenomena. Eggs flew through rooms, splattering their contents. Tinned goods opened themselves without human intervention.

The activity appeared to follow Alma specifically. Phenomena occurred most frequently in her presence and intensified when she moved between rooms. The phenomena showed peculiar patterns in their targeting. Violence was often directed towards the male members of the household whilst sparing Alma herself from direct physical harm.

The Press Arrives

By the weekend following the initial outbreak, the Fieldings had reached a desperate conclusion. The police would be of no help with supernatural matters. The Church might offer prayers but little concrete assistance. However, the Sunday Pictorial, a popular newspaper, had been running stories about supernatural experiences and inviting readers to share their encounters. Alma contacted the newspaper.

The Sunday Pictorial responded with enthusiasm. The paper dispatched two representatives, Victor Thompson and Lionel Crane, to Beverstone Road on Saturday, 19 February. Both men were experienced journalists accustomed to distinguishing truth from exaggeration. What they witnessed during their day at number 93 would shake their professional scepticism.

The reporters spent the entire day observing the household. They saw saucers explode into fragments whilst held in Alma’s hands. They watched a large lump of coal fly across the room and smash into the wall with such force that it left a crater in the plaster, passing close enough that they felt the breeze and had to jump aside. Glasses and cups lifted from tables without visible cause. Thompson and Crane attempted every rational explanation they could conceive but found nothing that could account for what they were witnessing.

National Headlines

The Sunday Pictorial published its report on Sunday morning, 20 February 1938. The headline screamed: “GHOST WRECKS HOME – FAMILY TERRORISED”. The article carried the newspaper’s claim: “This is the most curious front page story we have ever printed.”

The layout created an unintentionally ominous juxtaposition. The story ran alongside a large photograph of Adolf Hitler, his mouth open in mid-speech, positioned so that the poltergeist account appeared to issue from his shouting maw. Europe stood on the precipice of catastrophe, yet here was this domestic haunting capturing public attention.

Crowds began to gather outside number 93 within hours. Curious neighbours, sensation-seekers, and believers in the supernatural congregated, hoping to witness phenomena. The police were called to manage the throngs. The Fielding family found themselves prisoners in their own home, unable to leave without facing crowds of strangers.

But the newspaper article also caught the attention of someone who would transform the investigation from journalistic curiosity into sustained scientific study.

Nandor Fodor Enters the Case

On Monday morning, 21 February 1938, Nandor Fodor sat in his office at the International Institute for Psychical Research in South Kensington and read about the case. At forty-one years old, the Hungarian-born journalist had found his vocation in psychical research. In 1934, he had published the Encyclopaedia of Psychic Science, establishing himself as a serious scholar. He worked as research officer at the International Institute for Psychical Research, bringing a particular perspective to paranormal investigation.

Fodor had studied the works of Sigmund Freud and was fascinated by psychoanalytic theory. Where earlier researchers had sought evidence of spirits or supernatural forces, Fodor wondered whether poltergeist phenomena might be manifestations of unconscious psychological distress. He theorised that traumatic experiences, particularly those of a sexual nature, might somehow generate kinetic energy that could move objects.

Fodor had developed a reputation as a rigorous investigator who exposed fraudulent mediums. This had earned him enemies in the spiritualist community. The journal Psychic News had recently criticised his methods, and Fodor had filed a libel lawsuit against them. He desperately needed a genuine case to demonstrate that his scepticism was not wholesale disbelief but rather commitment to finding authentic phenomena.

Reading the Pictorial’s account, Fodor recognised features that intrigued him. The phenomena centred on a woman rather than a child. The disturbances had begun in the bedroom and seemed to direct violence towards the male members of the household. This suggested psychological dimensions that aligned with his theories.

Fodor contacted the newspaper and requested the family’s address. He dispatched his assistant, Laurence Evans, to conduct preliminary observations. Laurie reported back the following morning. The case appeared authentic. The phenomena were occurring in the presence of multiple witnesses. The family seemed genuinely distressed. There were no obvious signs of fraud. Fodor needed to see this for himself.

The Investigation Begins

When Nandor Fodor first visited 93 Beverstone Road, he encountered a family living under siege. The disturbances had continued unabated. The household existed in a state of nervous exhaustion. Fodor introduced himself and explained his credentials, assuring the family that he approached the case with an open mind. The Fieldings agreed to cooperate fully.

From his first day of observation, Fodor formed a crucial assessment. The seventeen-year-old Don was not the source of the phenomena. It was Alma herself who stood at the centre of the disturbances. The phenomena occurred primarily in her presence. This observation aligned with Fodor’s theories about poltergeist phenomena being expressions of unconscious psychological distress.

Fodor established a systematic observation protocol. He spent long hours at Beverstone Road, documenting each incident, noting times, locations, and witnesses. The phenomena continued to manifest during his observations. He saw crockery fly off shelves. He observed glasses lifting from tables and sailing through the air. He watched objects in Alma’s hands suddenly split or shatter. On one occasion, a heavy wardrobe toppled over whilst Fodor was alone in the room.

The violence and range impressed Fodor deeply. Yet he maintained his scientific scepticism. He knew that even apparently genuine phenomena could have natural explanations.

The Sunday Pictorial published a follow-up article on 27 February: “HOUSE IS HAUNTED DECLARE EXPERTS”. The report quoted Fodor: “My assistant, Mr L.A. Evans, and I have spent most of the week at the house. There is certainly no fraud. We are satisfied there is something supernatural at work there.”

This public declaration would return to haunt him as the case developed in unexpected directions.

The Institute Sessions

As March arrived, Fodor made a crucial decision. Whilst observing phenomena at Beverstone Road was valuable, the environment was chaotic and difficult to control. If Alma was truly the focal point, would the disturbances follow her to a different location?

Fodor suggested that Alma should come to the Institute’s headquarters in South Kensington for controlled observations. Alma agreed. She began making regular visits, sometimes several times per week. Before entering the observation room, Alma was taken to a private space where a female assistant conducted a thorough body search. She was required to undress completely and submit to examination. Her handbag and any loose items were confiscated. Her clothing was examined for concealed objects.

In some sessions, Alma was dressed in specially prepared one-piece suits designed to make any sleight of hand visible. The garments were sewn shut after she put them on. Her hands and arms were held by assistants on either side.

Despite these precautions, phenomena continued. Indeed, the manifestations at the Institute took forms even more remarkable than those at Beverstone Road. The activity transformed into something resembling physical mediumship.

Objects Materialise

Objects began to materialise in Alma’s presence. Small items would suddenly appear and fall to the floor with a clatter. These materialised objects, known in spiritualist terminology as “apports”, became the most remarkable aspect of the case.

Initially, the apports were personal possessions from her home at Thornton Heath. A brooch appeared. A small oil lamp materialised. These objects had apparently travelled ten miles from Thornton Heath to South Kensington by inexplicable means. The apported objects became increasingly diverse. Ancient terracotta pots appeared. Antique jewellery materialised. On one occasion, a piece of rhubarb appeared.

Even more extraordinarily, live creatures began to materialise. A goldfish appeared and flopped on the floor. White mice emerged from nowhere. A beetle crawled from beneath Alma’s glove. A small bird appeared and flew briefly around the room. Most extraordinarily, a terrapin materialised on Alma’s lap whilst she was being driven in a motor car.

The phenomena seemed to respond to the expectations and desires of the observers. Fodor and his colleagues were delighted by these manifestations. The more impressed they were, the more dramatic the phenomena became.

Alma began to speak as though channelling spirits. She claimed to have a spirit guide, a Persian entity named Bremba, who facilitated the manifestations. The séance room sessions developed their own ritual character.

The social dynamics require examination. Alma, a working-class housewife from suburban Croydon, suddenly found herself at the centre of attention from educated, upper-middle-class researchers. She visited elegant premises in South Kensington. She was treated as special, gifted, extraordinary. For a woman whose life had been constrained by domestic drudgery and chronic illness, this transformation must have been intoxicating.

Troubling Questions

As the investigations continued through March and into April, the nature of the apports raised troubling questions. Some materialised objects were identifiable as items that had gone missing from shops near Beverstone Road. Jewellery bore characteristics of stolen goods. Small decorative objects matched descriptions from shopkeepers’ reports.

The implications were potentially catastrophic. If the apports were stolen goods, then Alma was shoplifting, not manifesting objects through psychic powers. The Institute was receiving stolen property. Fodor found himself in an extraordinarily difficult position. He had publicly declared the case genuine. He had staked his professional reputation on Alma’s phenomena.

The question of how Alma could continue to produce phenomena despite body searches and sewn garments became crucial. Fodor consulted with medical professionals and began to consider uncomfortable possibilities. Could Alma be concealing objects internally, within her body?

Fodor arranged for Alma to undergo X-ray examination. The X-rays revealed shadows consistent with foreign objects in Alma’s pelvic region. The medical professional stated that Alma appeared to have objects concealed within her body. This discovery seemed to settle the question of fraud. If Alma was hiding items internally and extracting them during sessions, then the phenomena were not paranormal but elaborate deception.

For most investigators, this would have ended the case. But Fodor did not respond in the expected manner. Instead, he became more interested in why Alma would engage in such behaviour. What psychological forces could drive a woman to such extraordinary lengths?

The Psychological Investigation

Fodor began to investigate Alma’s psychological background systematically. He conducted extensive interviews, encouraging her to speak about her childhood, relationships, dreams, and fears. What emerged was a portrait of a woman whose life had been marked by suffering and constrained ambitions.

Alma’s childhood had been difficult. She revealed incidents of hysterical reactions, dissociative episodes, hearing voices, and visions. These symptoms suggested significant psychological disturbance, possibly rooted in traumatic experiences during her formative years.

Fodor, applying Freudian psychoanalytic theory, became convinced that Alma had suffered sexual abuse during childhood. He believed these traumatic experiences had been repressed, buried in her unconscious mind. The psychological damage remained, manifesting in various symptoms throughout her adult life.

Alma displayed what Fodor characterised as “poltergeist psychosis”, an episodic mental disturbance. Her personality showed signs of disorganisation. She experienced dissociative episodes. She heard voices and had visions. Fodor also noted self-destructive patterns. She claimed an apparition had tried to strangle her, leaving burn marks on her neck. Another time, she reported being clawed by a phantom tiger, displaying welts on her arms. She claimed a vampire had bitten her, leaving puncture marks on her neck.

To Fodor, these injuries were not evidence of supernatural attack but symptoms of psychological disturbance and possible self-harm. Women in the 1930s who had suffered sexual trauma had virtually no vocabulary for expressing what had happened to them. In this context, supernatural experiences provided a socially acceptable way to express suffering that could not otherwise be acknowledged.

The poltergeist phenomena, the apports, the spirit possession, all became in Fodor’s analysis an elaborate psychodrama through which Alma expressed her inner turmoil. Even the fraudulent aspects were not simple trickery but desperate performances attempting to maintain attention and care that Alma desperately needed. The phenomena gave her power, status, and importance. They provided escape from domestic servitude. They allowed her to be seen and heard.

Fodor’s conclusions were remarkably sympathetic for his era. Rather than simply exposing Alma as a fraud, he attempted to understand and help her. He believed that by bringing repressed trauma to consciousness, the psychological disturbance might be resolved.

Controversy Erupts

Not everyone shared Fodor’s sympathetic interpretation. When word of his conclusions began to circulate, particularly his theory about sexual trauma, a storm of controversy erupted.

The spiritualist movement was outraged. Fodor’s suggestion that Alma’s phenomena were expressions of trauma and fraud struck at the heart of spiritualist beliefs. Psychic News, the publication Fodor was suing, seized upon the controversy. Here was proof of Fodor’s cynicism about the supernatural. He had initially declared the case genuine, only to later suggest it was fraud rooted in sexual pathology. His methods were invasive and unkind.

Various spiritualists condemned Fodor’s approach publicly. They accused him of subjecting Alma to humiliating examinations. They questioned his ethics in discussing sexual trauma without proper evidence. Even within the International Institute for Psychical Research, there was disquiet. Some felt Fodor had become too personally involved with Alma.

The controversy affected Fodor’s libel case against Psychic News. When the case came to trial, Fodor won two of the four charges but received only a small sum in damages. The Thornton Heath investigation, rather than vindicating his approach, had provided ammunition for his critics. His reputation was damaged. His position at the Institute became increasingly untenable.

The Aftermath

For Alma, the consequences were profound. The woman who had briefly been the centre of fascinated attention now found herself the subject of scandal. The phenomena that had given her status were being dismissed as fraud. The explanations Fodor offered exposed intimate aspects of her life to public discussion.

Alma retreated from the investigations. The séances ended. The phenomena ceased. She withdrew from public view. The Fielding family eventually left Thornton Heath. Alma and Les moved to Devon countryside, settling in a bungalow in Branscombe. The rural setting offered peace and anonymity.

However, Alma’s connection to the supernatural was not entirely abandoned. She occasionally held séances in their retirement home. Those who attended reported they were theatrical but unconvincing. One participant recalled seeing a bell with a Woolworths label still attached hidden up Alma’s sleeve.

Alma’s grandson, Barry, remembered her as a difficult old woman who told improbable stories about her glory days. There was no grandeur in these memories. Alma Fielding died in 1976 at the age of seventy-two. The obituaries did not mention the Thornton Heath poltergeist. She was buried without particular ceremony, her brief moment of fame long forgotten.

Fodor’s Later Work

For Fodor, the Thornton Heath case represented both crisis and breakthrough. Despite the controversy, he never recanted his conclusions about Alma. He remained convinced that he had correctly identified the psychological roots of her phenomena.

Fodor did not publish a full account until 1945, seven years after the investigation concluded. In 1958, he published “On the Trail of the Poltergeist”, which included extensive discussion of the case. By this time, he had relocated to the United States, where he continued to work as a psychoanalyst.

Fodor’s legacy in psychical research remains complex. He is remembered as both a rigorous investigator who exposed fraud and a theorist who suggested that dismissing phenomena as fraud was intellectually insufficient. Understanding why people created or experienced supernatural phenomena was as important as determining whether those phenomena were genuine.

The 1970s Confusion: A Second Case?

Confusion about the Thornton Heath poltergeist arises because references exist to a second case, allegedly occurring in the 1970s in the same area. This later case purportedly involved a different family haunted by the ghosts of eighteenth-century residents. The spirits were identified as the Chattertons, described as a farmer and his wife who claimed the house as their territory and attempted to drive the living occupants away through years of escalating phenomena. Reports described furniture moving, violent manifestations, Christmas trees shaking, and aggressive apparitions. The haunting allegedly lasted from 1970 to 1974, with the family eventually driven from their home.

However, extensive investigation by researchers attempting to document this second case has revealed no verifiable evidence that it occurred. John Fraser, a paranormal researcher who lives in Thornton Heath, conducted thorough investigations seeking original sources. Enquiries to websites featuring the story produced only circular references back to other Internet posts, with no original documentation. No contemporary newspaper accounts exist. No witness testimony can be verified. No official records corroborate the story.

When Fraser contacted administrators of websites featuring the Chatterton haunting, they admitted the story had been “fully sourced from the web” with no original source material. Contributors who had posted the account were no longer contactable. The film project based on the story sought people with first-hand experiences but received no responses.

The 1970s Thornton Heath poltergeist appears to be an urban legend, a story created or elaborated online that has been confused with the well-documented 1938 case. This confusion was compounded by a low-budget 2017 film titled “The Thornton Heath Poltergeist” which drew from the Internet accounts of the Chatterton haunting for its storyline.

The existence of this phantom second case raises important questions about how paranormal stories evolve and spread in the digital age. An unverified account posted online can be copied, referenced, and elaborated by subsequent writers until it acquires a false appearance of authenticity through sheer repetition. The 1970s case has been discussed on YouTube channels, paranormal websites, and even mixed with facts from the genuine 1938 case, creating a confusing hybrid that obscures the historical record.

For researchers, this serves as a cautionary tale about the importance of verifying sources and distinguishing documented historical cases from modern fabrications, no matter how widely they may have spread online.

Historical Context

To properly understand the case, one must situate it within its historical moment. The Britain of 1938 was caught between memory and foreboding. Twenty years had passed since the Great War, but the psychological wounds remained unhealed. Nearly every family had lost someone.

Spiritualism had flourished in the 1920s as grieving families sought comfort. By 1938, belief in the paranormal remained widespread and socially acceptable. At the same time, new ideas about psychology were beginning to permeate British society. Freud himself fled Vienna and arrived in London in 1938.

The social position of women in 1938 provides crucial context. Despite gains in women’s rights, practical lives remained severely constrained. Marriage and motherhood were presented as the proper focus of female existence. Domestic labour was undervalued. Women’s own desires and suffering were often invisible.

Sexual abuse of women and girls occurred but could not be discussed openly. Victims had no vocabulary for their experiences. Against this backdrop, supernatural experience offered women a socially acceptable way to express distress and claim attention.

The looming shadow of war added collective anxiety. Hitler’s expansion and the sense that conflict was inevitable created widespread fear. The Pictorial’s placement of the poltergeist story next to Hitler’s photograph captured the psychological state of a nation facing both domestic and international catastrophe.

Analysis

What truly happened at 93 Beverstone Road? The evidence supports several conclusions that are not mutually exclusive.

First, genuine anomalous phenomena appear to have occurred, at least initially. Multiple credible witnesses observed objects moving under circumstances that seemed to preclude normal explanation.

Second, fraud was definitely present during later stages, particularly during the Institute sessions. The X-ray evidence, apports matching stolen goods, and subsequent testimony all point to deliberate deception.

Third, Alma was suffering from significant psychological distress. Whether or not Fodor was correct about sexual abuse, the symptoms he documented suggest serious psychological disturbance.

Fourth, the social dynamics shaped what occurred. Alma received unprecedented attention through the phenomena. The investigators wanted to witness supernatural events. The newspapers sought sensational stories. Everyone involved had incentives to maintain the belief that something extraordinary was happening.

Fifth, the case reveals the limited options available to women for expressing distress or escaping constrained circumstances. Alma’s brief transformation from housewife to medium illustrates how supernatural experience could provide temporary liberation from oppressive social structures.

Modern Relevance

The Thornton Heath poltergeist achieved renewed prominence with Kate Summerscale’s 2020 book “The Haunting of Alma Fielding: A True Ghost Story”. Summerscale’s meticulous research uncovered Fodor’s previously unpublished notes and diaries. The book was adapted into a BBC radio serial, introducing the case to new audiences.

Contemporary readers find different meanings than 1938 audiences did. Modern understanding of trauma, particularly sexual trauma and childhood abuse, provides frameworks unavailable to Fodor despite his psychoanalytic training. Feminist analysis reveals how constrained opportunities for women’s self-expression created conditions where supernatural experience became one of few socially acceptable ways to claim attention and exercise agency.

The case remains relevant to ongoing debates about paranormal phenomena. Sceptics cite it as evidence that even apparently well-documented cases can involve fraud. Believers argue that some fraud does not invalidate all phenomena. Psychological researchers use it to explore how trauma manifests in unusual behaviours.

Conclusion

The Thornton Heath poltergeist stands as a nexus point where multiple forces converged. Individual psychological trauma intersected with collective social anxieties. Class dynamics played out as working-class woman encountered upper-middle-class researchers. Gender constraints shaped possibilities for expression. Spiritualist beliefs met psychoanalytic theories. Genuine suffering expressed itself through both authentic phenomena and deliberate performance. Truth and deception became inextricably intertwined.

For several months in 1938, a terraced house in suburban Croydon became the site of extraordinary claims and experiences. Alma Fielding found herself at the centre of events that temporarily transformed her life. The cost was considerable and lasting.

Nandor Fodor attempted to understand rather than simply expose, to find meaning beyond the binary of genuine versus fake. His approach was ahead of its time in recognising that psychological dimensions deserved serious study regardless of whether supernatural forces were actually involved.

The case stands as a reminder that truth in matters of the supernatural is rarely simple. Fraud and genuine distress can coexist. Deception and suffering are not mutually exclusive. The question “did it really happen?” may be less illuminating than asking “what did it mean?” and “what function did it serve?”

Beverstone Road is quiet now. The crowds dispersed decades ago. The Fieldings have all died. Number 93 presumably stands much as it did, indistinguishable from its neighbours. But for those intense months, it was the site of something remarkable, whatever that something truly was.

The Thornton Heath poltergeist endures as a puzzle, a cautionary tale, and a window into complex relationships between trauma, social constraint, supernatural belief, and the human hunger for meaning. Whether Alma Fielding was haunted by spirits, by her unconscious mind, or by a society that offered women few acceptable ways to express suffering, she was genuinely haunted. That haunting was real in its effects even if its causes remain contested and mysterious.