End of Tenancy Cleaning in Brompton

You know you're in Brompton when the porter greets you by name because you've cleaned three flats in the building already this year. Egerton Gardens — a red-brick Victorian mansion block from 1886, four storeys behind gabled facades and canted bays, with a marble-and-tile entrance hall that leads past the porter's desk to a cage lift that's been running since the building was wired for electricity. Third floor. Two bedrooms, a reception room, a kitchen, two bathrooms, a hallway with a parquet floor, and the building's communal gardens visible through the rear windows. The tenant — a French banking executive on a corporate let — had been there 2 years at £3,800/month. She'd already returned to Paris. The keys were with Savills Knightsbridge.

Collected the keys from Savills at 9am. Parked on a meter on Egerton Terrace — £6.60/hr, the meter ticking with the particular urgency that RBKC parking inspires. Through the entrance hall (marble floor, decorative tile dado — not our scope, but the kind of surface you walk across carefully when you're carrying degreaser), past the porter ('third floor again — the lift's working today'), up in the cage lift with the full kit.

The reception room was the centrepiece — the original Victorian proportions of an Egerton Gardens flat at their most generous. Two 6-over-6 sash windows overlooking the gardens at the rear, each with panelled shutters folded into their boxes. That's 24 individual panes across two windows, plus eight shutter panels — the same Georgian-scale glass work as Bloomsbury's Bedford Place, but in a Victorian building with slightly wider glazing bars and heavier frames. Each pane cleaned, each glazing bar wiped, each shutter panel wiped front and back, the shutter boxes dusted. Sills wiped. 22 minutes on two windows.

A marble fireplace — white Carrara with grey veining, a late-Victorian surround with engaged columns and a carved garland across the lintel. Not as elaborate as the Regency mantels on the squares, but substantial and in impeccable condition. pH-neutral product, white microfibre cloth, each carved element wiped individually. We checked for etch marks: one small ring on the mantel — a wine glass, probably, left without a coaster. Documented. The cast-iron insert: dry cloth, the decorative panels dusted. The hearth: a black slate slab, vacuumed and wiped with pH-neutral. 10 minutes on the fireplace.

The furniture (the landlord's): a large sofa and two armchairs vacuumed — under cushions (a euro coin, a hairpin), arms, backs. A writing desk: wiped, drawers opened and interior wiped. A dining table with six chairs: table top and underside wiped, each chair seat and back wiped, the legs dusted. A console table with a mirror above: both surfaces wiped, the mirror cleaned. A Persian rug on the parquet floor: we don't clean rugs, but we noted its condition for the inventory. The parquet floor around the rug: herringbone oak, lacquered, mopped with specialist product. The cornicing: elaborate Victorian plasterwork, dusted with an extension tool around the full perimeter. Picture rail wiped. 25 minutes for furniture and remaining surfaces.

The kitchen — refitted within the last decade, a compact but high-spec galley along the internal wall. Integrated Gaggenau oven behind a handleless push-to-open door: cavity sprayed, single dwell (the French executive's cooking style had favoured the restaurants of Brompton Road over the oven — light use). Induction hob: specialist product, no marks. Granite worktops (Absolute Black, polished): pH-neutral, dried. Integrated fridge-freezer: immaculate — the tenant had cleaned it before departing (the French, in our experience, leave kitchens the way they'd want to find them). Dishwasher interior wiped. The extractor: a flush-ceiling unit, filter soaked. Floor: large-format stone tiles, mopped with pH-neutral. 25 minutes.

Two bathrooms. The en-suite: a walk-in shower with a frameless glass panel, wall-hung basin in a marble vanity, wall-hung toilet, heated towel rail. The marble vanity: pH-neutral, wiped dry. The shower glass: descaler, 10-minute dwell, one pass — light limescale, the tenant had maintained it well. Wall-hung fixtures checked underneath. Chrome polished dry. 20 minutes. The main bathroom: a freestanding bath (modern composite, not a period roll-top), a separate shower cubicle with a glass door, a basin on a marble-topped vanity, a toilet. Bath cleaned all the way around. Shower glass: descaled. Marble vanity: pH-neutral. The bathroom floor was marble — small-format mosaic tiles in white Carrara. Mopped barely-damp with pH-neutral (marble floors absorb water and stain if left wet). 25 minutes.

Two bedrooms. The master: furnished (a king-size bed frame wiped, underneath vacuumed, mattress surface vacuumed, two bedside tables wiped including drawer interiors). A large built-in wardrobe system: each door opened, each shelf wiped, each rail dusted, the base of each section done. One sash window (6-over-6, with shutters): 12 panes plus 4 shutter panels. 18 minutes. The second bedroom: furnished (a double bed, a desk — the 'CALL TOKYO' Post-it note would have felt at home here, though this desk was clean). One sash window (4-over-4, no shutters — the rear elevation had simpler windows). 14 minutes.

The hallway: parquet floor (herringbone, same as the reception room) mopped. The front door (a heavy Victorian panelled door with brass furniture): each panel wiped, the brass handle and letterbox polished dry — no Brasso, no acidic product, same principle as Bloomsbury's original brass. Entry-phone panel: wiped. Coat cupboard: interior wiped. 8 minutes.

Total time: 4.5 hours. Two people. A 2-bed furnished flat in a Victorian mansion block — high ceilings, marble in three rooms, 6-over-6 sash windows with shutters, Gaggenau appliances, parquet floors, and enough furniture to furnish a small house. The windows and shutters took 40 minutes across the flat. The two bathrooms took 45 minutes. The furniture added about 30 minutes. The marble surfaces (fireplace, two bathroom vanities, bathroom floor) required pH-neutral throughout and added 15 minutes of care that standard surfaces wouldn't demand.

The Savills clerk arrived three days later. She was a Knightsbridge specialist — Brompton was her territory, and she'd inspected flats in this building dozens of times. She walked through the marble-floored entrance hall with the familiarity of someone who knew which tiles were slightly uneven and where the porter kept the spare lightbulbs.

Reception room: she checked the fireplace first — fingertip along a fluted column (clean), the carved garland inspected at close range with her torch. Found the wine-glass etch ring on the mantel — checked the check-in photos on her tablet. Not present at the start. Noted for landlord discussion ('it's always wine glasses on Carrara — always'). The sash windows: she opened one shutter and checked the panel back (clean — this is the Brompton clerk test that separates thoroughness from routine). She tested one sash, checked the glazing bars of two panes. Satisfied. The Persian rug: she lifted one corner and checked the parquet beneath (clean, no staining from the rug backing).

Kitchen: Gaggenau torched. Granite finger-tested. Fridge opened (clean — she made a quiet note of approval). Bathrooms: shower glass angle-tested in both. Marble vanities checked for product residue (none — pH-neutral doesn't leave residue the way standard cleaner does). The marble mosaic floor: she crouched and looked along the surface at a low angle, checking for water marks. None. Bedrooms: furniture checked, wardrobes opened section by section. Brass door hardware: she checked the patina ('intact — good').

Her report was 14 pages. Every cleaning item passed. The wine-glass etch ring on the marble mantel: noted for landlord negotiation, with a recommendation for professional marble polishing rather than a deposit deduction. No other flags.

Deposit returned minus the cost of marble polishing (£180) within 14 days. The banking executive received the confirmation in Paris, forwarded it to the bank's relocation department, and Brompton released its latest international tenant back into the world. The wine-glass ring was the only trace she left — an etch in Carrara marble that would outlast the polishing, the next tenancy, and probably the building's next century. Marble remembers everything. Our job is to clean what can be cleaned and document what can't, so that the deposit reflects the distinction. On a Brompton flat, that distinction is worth getting right.