WHEN GHOSTS BECAME A DISTRACTION FROM THE REAL HORROR
I was an starwars obsessed eighties kid when I saw it—televised, but also plastered across the newspapers. The Enfield Haunting. Little Janet and her sister Helen (I think), and I'm sure there was a brother too, yeah actually, I'm right. Anyway, my folks dismissed it entirely, but I spent time curiously watching that toothy kid, the girl with the sharp nose; she had a suspicious air of mischief about her.
SUSPICIOUS GIGGLES
What struck me then, and strikes me still, was how Janet giggled with Helen in some interviews. A bit of a giveaway, really. You could see a glint of conspiracy in their eyes. She was sniffing out ghosts, our Janet, and I think she got scent of Frank. Well... he isn't real. She fessed up, '... s' not real! ' just before her sister nudged her and shushed her into silence. People still believed it all.
We've all seen the old 70s footage—the interviews with frightened police officers, the many TV shows, the photographed bedroom star jumps. Mostly of us watched with a quizzing side glance, a grimace. It was a tad mental then when the big budget Conjuring 2 movie came along; it even tackled that confession head on! Bollocks.
WAS THE MOVIE TRUE TO THE FACTS?
Now I had to know, did the movie portray things properly with true facts? Well, really—why would it? It wasn't an investigative documentary but a box office attraction designed to put arses on cinema seats! Still, there was something about it though. Their house was poor, an oppressive atmosphere seemed to permeate every photograph and frame of film.
Yes, of course the 'Paranormal Society' investigator, Morris, was personally invested because of his family tragedy. But the home itself told another story: Mum was living on a hard line and the kids were out of control. Janet was using a creepy-ass-voice to scare the living fuck out of everyone, it became more than just a hobby, it was pathological. Above all, they were under scrutiny, but also being paid for exclusives. Like a job, almost.
Oh, yeah, those coppers who claimed they witnessed a chair or a toy car move—that kept it going.
THE PERSISTENCE OF A LIE
Years later, Janet (or maybe Helen) was all grown-up, a rough looking woman and was on TV again. She was sporting make-up, extra height, and had this disappointing vacancy about her. The woman was adamant, everything that had happened to her was all true. Well, she would say that, wouldn't she? But, then again, eas she teally bullshitting? I thought, tilted head, rubbing my chin.
I know I've probably dismissed most of the evidence and testimonies, but I'll be honest: I actually tracked down Frank's son—the son of Janet's ghost. I contacted the bloke myself and spoke with him (email, I think). Again, he said it was all true, just like Janet or the other one. He claimed that he heard his dad on the tapes coming from the girl. I was like 'Wow, Jeez, huff,' all that. Investigation fascinates me.
When I told my family, I heard a word similar to 'Cough' followed by roaring laughter. 'It's the sequel to a multi-million pound horror movie, you pleb!' they said. 'They'll get everyone signing forms to keep quiet!'
Fair enough, I can be a bit naive at times, but I dunno. Something remained with me, something off.
THE REAL HORROR: CLASSISM
But here's what I keep coming back to, and forgive me for sounding like Monty Python's Holy Grail, but I think the Enfield Horror isn't about fucking ghosts or demons at all. It's definitely oppression. The poverty gap and shit.
IT WAS ALL CLASSISM!
Poverty is a bastard. I was raised in a maisonette and then a council house. Some of the other kids were called awful names, cruel ones. Why? Because being at the bottom meant being walked on by egotists, bullies. Everyone looked down at you.
I was a naughty kid myself, but I didn't extend my frustrations to poltergeist ventriloquism. I was more of a beastie boy—car badge thieving, window smashing, shoplifting. A rebel in the way poor kids become rebels. We all take power where we can, right?
The Enfield case happened in a poor household; mother was struggling, kids had little-to-nothing, attention was currency and, you know what I mean. Janet whiffed a new way to get that attention, to attract concern; she had power in a world that gave her none. Her sister played along. Their behaviour escalated because it paid off. The old bill came. Investigators popped around. The media showed interest. For once, they weren't invisible, but interesting.
THE CONCLUSION I CAN'T QUITE BELIEVE I'M MAKING HERE
The Enfield Haunting isn't an unsolved paranormal mystery. It's a snapshot of what happens when kids have bugger all. Maybe, Janet and Helen (I hope her name's Helen) had an unremarkable paranormal experience in that house, but discovered how much attention it commanded from other school kids. It snowballed.
Some other kind of spook could have been involved at some point, who cares? The real horror was always the circumstances. Those teenage girls thought that performing a lie was their best shot at being appreciated in this world. In a recent interview with Apple TV Janet said: 'You never feel like you’re free of it. I don’t like to say this, you know, but I feel it even now. It’s never left me.'
It wasn't Helen, it was actually Margaret.
