End of Tenancy Cleaning in Fortis Green

A 1930s semi on Grand Avenue — one of the wide residential streets running south from Fortis Green Road toward East Finchley. The N2 end of Fortis Green, where the 1930s builds dominate and the Northern Line is a 10-minute walk downhill. A solid interwar semi with the hallmarks of its era: a tile-hung gable, a curved bay window with leaded-light panels on the ground floor, a parquet hallway, two reception rooms, a kitchen extended at the rear in the 1990s, three bedrooms, a family bathroom, a master en-suite (added during the extension work), a downstairs WC, and a 65-foot rear garden with a patio, a lawn, and a shed. The tenants — a couple with a toddler and a baby — had been there 2.5 years on a rolling AST at £2,600/month. Managed by Jeremy Leaf & Co East Finchley. Inventory checkout booked with an independent clerk for three days later.

Parked on the driveway — a block-paved area beside the garage, wide enough for one car. Grand Avenue has Barnet CPZ restrictions, but the driveway meant we didn't need a space on the street. Carried the kit through the side gate and in through the back door — the tenants had left the keys on the kitchen island with a note thanking us and wishing us luck with the oven. The note ended with a smiley face, which, given the oven's condition, felt more like a warning than an expression of goodwill.

The hallway first. Original parquet — oak blocks laid in a basket-weave pattern, 90 years old, waxed rather than lacquered. The blocks had the patina of age — darker in the high-traffic areas, lighter under where the console table had stood, a distinct threshold wear patch inside the front door where 2.5 years of a buggy, a toddler's boots, and two adults' shoes had ground grit into the surface daily. Crevice vacuum along every gap — the basket-weave pattern meant working in two directions rather than the single diagonal of a herringbone layout. Then the surface vacuumed. Then mopped with specialist wood product — barely damp, a wrung-out mop head pressed against the blocks without letting moisture sit. The wax finish was intact but thin in the traffic zone. Documented. A small section near the staircase had two blocks that had lifted slightly — a 3mm lip where one block sat higher than its neighbour. Not a cleaning issue; documented as a maintenance item. 18 minutes for the hallway parquet.

Front reception room. The curved bay window with its leaded-light panels — three sections, each with a geometric pattern of rectangular panes divided by lead cames. Not the diamond pattern of the Petts Wood stock, but a more angular Deco layout with horizontal and vertical lines. Each pane cleaned individually within the cames. The cames wiped dry — a mid-grey patina, characteristic of 1930s lead, consistent across all the panels. The casement sections (the outer windows that opened): opened, frames wiped, hinges dusted. Sills wiped. The window occupied the full width of the bay, about 2.5 metres. 15 minutes.

An Art Deco tiled fireplace — the centrepiece. Stepped geometric tiles in cream, black, and a jade green that caught the light from the bay window. Eight tiles on each side in a symmetrical stepped pattern, framing a cast-iron insert with a simple arched opening. The tiles were glazed — smoother and less fragile than the unglazed tube-lined Art Nouveau tiles we'd handled at East Sheen — and in excellent condition. Each tile wiped with a damp cloth. The cast-iron insert: dry cloth, the arch detailing dusted with a small brush. The timber mantel: painted white, wiped. The hearth: a polished slate slab, vacuumed and wiped with pH-neutral. The chimney breast above: dusted. 12 minutes.

The floor: fitted carpet over the original boards (the landlord had carpeted the reception rooms at some point). Vacuumed thoroughly — edges, under the radiator, the bay window recess where dust collects against the skirting. Picture rail: wiped along its full length. Dado rail: wiped. Skirting boards done. Radiator (a column radiator — more decorative than a standard panel, more bars to wipe). Curtain pole dusted. 18 minutes.

Rear reception room — used as a playroom for 2.5 years, which meant the cleaning had a specific character. Carpeted. The carpet had ground-in crumbs, play-dough residue (a dried blue speck near the door, a flattened pink piece under where the rug had been), and the general wear of a room where a toddler had spent most of their waking hours. Vacuumed thoroughly — the play-dough pieces lifted with the vacuum on the carpet setting. The walls at toddler height had crayon marks in three locations and a hand-print smear (something that had once been food, applied at approximately 80cm from the floor with the confidence of a 2-year-old). Crayon: damp cloth, gentle circular pressure. Two of the three marks came off cleanly. The third — red crayon on magnolia paint — left a faint pink shadow in the paint. Documented. The food smear: general-purpose cleaner, one wipe. Gone. Window: a single casement, cleaned. Radiator done. French doors to the garden: glass cleaned, the track vacuumed. 20 minutes.

Kitchen. The rear extension — about 18 sqm of kitchen-diner with sliding patio doors to the garden. The kitchen was a 1990s refit that had been updated once since: laminate worktops replaced with a dark composite, the original gas cooker still in place. A freestanding gas cooker — a Stoves Richmond 600, single oven, separate grill, 4-burner gas hob. The tenants' note about the oven had been prescient. Two and a half years of family cooking — and 'family' here included the transition from baby food to toddler food, which means a phase where pureed sweet potato, mashed banana, and various liquids were being heated, cooled, reheated, and occasionally launched across the kitchen in small quantities. The oven cavity had a layered residue that was familiar from every family kitchen we clean: the base layer of steady roasting grease, the middle layer of baking spills (a cake overflow on the left side, a pie drip on the right), and the top layer of recent splatter.

Door off. Glass out — two panes on this model. Cavity sprayed. First dwell: 20 minutes. While it dwelled: hob burner caps and pan supports into the soak tray. The hob enamel had spill rings — standard family cooking marks, nothing as dramatic as the Harlesden five-colour archaeology, but persistent. Targeted degreaser on each ring.

Back to the oven. First pass: the surface layer and most of the middle layer came off. The cake overflow on the left wall had caramelised into a hard amber shell — second spray, another 12 minutes. Second pass: the amber shell softened and came off in pieces with a scourer. The base layer on the oven floor and roof: persistent but even. Third pass with the scourer on the stubborn patches near the fan housing. Clean. Grill cavity: one dwell, one pass. Door glass: both panes cleaned, the between-pane section wiped. Reassembled. Total oven time: 42 minutes.

The rest of the kitchen. Composite worktops: wiped and dried (dark composite shows water marks and smears if left to air-dry). Sink — stainless steel, 1.5 bowl — descaled. Taps: moderate limescale, one dwell. Inside all cupboards and drawers. Under the sink: descaled around the connections, a stray dummy found behind the U-bend — 2.5 years of parenthood distilled into one object in one location. Fridge-freezer (freestanding): shelves, drawers, gaskets. The freezer had a thin ice layer — door open, towel, 10 minutes. Dishwasher: door opened, interior wiped, filter checked (a seed — possibly sesame — lodged in the filter mesh, removed). Extractor: an integrated unit above the hob, filter removed and soaked, housing wiped. The patio doors: glass cleaned from the interior, the sliding track vacuumed (garden debris, a dried leaf, fine grit). Floor — large-format porcelain tiles — mopped. Kitchen total: 55 minutes including the oven.

Downstairs WC. Off the hallway, under the stairs. Basin, toilet, tiled floor. Descaled, cleaned, mopped. The basin tap had a limescale ring — one dwell. Toilet: moderate calcium below the waterline — one dwell, one pass. 10 minutes.

Family bathroom upstairs. A full refit, probably done during the 1990s extension: acrylic bath with a thermostatic shower mixer and a framed glass screen, vanity basin, close-coupled toilet, ceramic floor tiles. The bath waterline: moderate ring — descaler, 10-minute dwell, one pass. Shower screen: limescale concentrated at the bottom, one application, 10-minute dwell, vertical strips, squeegeed. Shower head: mild scaling, descaler cloth wrap, cleared. Basin: descaled. Toilet: descaled. Tiles: wiped. Grout: mostly clean, minor mould in two shower corners — anti-mould spray, treated. Heated towel rail: each bar. Mirror and cabinet: wiped. 28 minutes.

En-suite off the master bedroom. A small shower room added during the extension work: a shower cubicle with a single glass door, wall-hung basin, toilet. The glass door: descaled, 10-minute dwell, one pass. Basin and toilet done. Floor — vinyl — mopped. 15 minutes.

Three bedrooms. The master: carpeted, fitted wardrobes (sliding doors, tracks vacuumed — smooth, no sticking). Interior wiped: shelves, rail, a drawer unit, the base (dust, a button, one of those tiny socks that babies wear once and then vanish into the dimension behind the wardrobe). Window: a casement, cleaned. Radiator done. 16 minutes.

Second bedroom — the toddler's room. Carpeted. The carpet had more play-dough residue (green this time) and a small patch near the cot position where something had been spilled and wiped up but left a faint outline — milk, most likely, based on the shape and the slight yellowing. Vacuumed. The play-dough picked up by the vacuum. The milk shadow: spot-treated, lightened but not fully removed. Documented. The windowsill: sticker residue (animal stickers, based on the shape outlines — a giraffe, something that might have been a hippo). Plastic scraper, general-purpose cleaner. Removed. The window: cleaned. A night-light had been plugged into the socket near the cot and left a small heat discolouration on the wall around the socket plate. Documented as minor thermal marking. 16 minutes.

Third bedroom — the baby's room, which had been the smaller bedroom used as a nursery. Carpeted. The carpet was in good condition (the baby hadn't been mobile long enough to cause the ground-level chaos that a toddler produces). Window: cleaned. A blackout blind had been removed, leaving the mounting brackets in the wall and two small holes where the screws had been. The brackets were the landlord's (installed between tenancies based on the paint line around them). The holes: documented but not flagged — they were from the existing brackets, not new damage. 10 minutes.

Stairs and landing. Carpet runner on the main staircase — exposed painted timber on the edges. Runner vacuumed. The exposed edges wiped. Bannister: wiped, each spindle. The stair gate at the top of the stairs had left a pressure mark on the door frame where the rubber pads had pressed against the paint for 2.5 years — two small round depressions, barely visible but present. Documented as minor compression from safety equipment. Landing: vacuumed. Airing cupboard: shelves wiped, cylinder dusted. Loft hatch: dusted. 14 minutes.

Hallway already done (parquet was our first task). Front door: wiped inside and out. The stained-glass panel above the door (a simple geometric design in amber and green — 1930s Deco rather than the flowing Edwardian patterns): each pane wiped from the inside. Coat hooks, radiator, the meter cupboard (opened, dusted). The shoe rack — landlord's property — wiped. 6 minutes.

Total time: 5 hours. Two people. A 1930s semi with a 1990s extension, a parquet hallway, leaded-light windows, an Art Deco fireplace, a gas oven that had earned its tenants' smiley-face warning, and the particular detritus of a household with very small children: play-dough, stickers, a dummy behind the U-bend, a baby sock in the wardrobe, stair-gate compression marks on the door frame, and a crayon mark that left a pink ghost in the magnolia paint. Every one of those items tells a story of a family that lived in this house rather than just occupying it — which is exactly what a 2.5-year tenancy at £2,600/month should look like.

The Jeremy Leaf inventory clerk arrived three days later. She worked from a 10-page schedule — room by room, fixture by fixture, the kind of document that a premium N2 agent produces for a family house at this rent level.

Hallway: she examined the parquet at floor level (crouching, running her hand across the surface — the same experienced-clerk technique we'd seen at Petts Wood). The blocks were clean, the wax finish intact. She noted the traffic wear and the two lifted blocks — both documented in the check-in inventory as pre-existing. Good. The stained-glass panel above the door: clean.

Front reception room: she checked each leaded-light panel (phone torch at an angle, looking for residue between the cames). Clear. The Art Deco fireplace: each tile inspected — glazed surface intact, no chips, no new marks. She ran a finger along the top of the stepped tiles where dust could collect. Clean. The carpet: traffic path noted, not flagged.

Playroom: she looked at the crayon marks. Two locations clean, one with a faint pink shadow. She checked the check-in photos — the wall had been freshly painted at the start of the tenancy, so any mark was new. She noted the pink shadow as 'minor cosmetic — recommend touch-up, not a cleaning issue.' The play-dough: none found. The food smear: gone.

Kitchen: oven opened (her own torch — a proper LED penlight, the N2 inventory-clerk standard). Cavity torched: clean. She checked the spot where the cake overflow had been — ran a finger across it. Smooth. Hob: the spill-ring areas checked. Clean. Composite worktops: finger-tested along the seam. Dishwasher: opened, filter inspected (she actually looked at the filter — not every clerk does this). Patio door track: finger-tested. Floor: walked in socks.

Bathrooms: shower screens in both rooms angle-tested. Toilet bowls torched below the waterline. En-suite glass door checked. All clear.

Bedrooms: wardrobes opened. The toddler's room: sticker residue on the sill — gone. The milk shadow on the carpet: noted, accepted as minor. The night-light heat mark: noted as thermal, not cleaning. The baby's room: blackout blind brackets confirmed as landlord's. Stair-gate compression marks: noted as 'safety equipment marks — normal for a family tenancy.'

Her report was 8 pages of annotated photographs. Every cleaning item passed. The flagged items were cosmetic: the pink crayon shadow (touch-up paint), the milk shadow (minor carpet mark), the parquet traffic wear (normal use), the stair-gate compressions (normal for families). None were cleaning failures.

Deposit negotiation concluded within 12 days. The landlord accepted all the cosmetic items as fair use — he'd had a family with young children in the house for 2.5 years and his expectations were calibrated accordingly. No deductions. Full deposit returned via the DPS.

The family had moved to a 4-bed detached on Coldfall Avenue — 200 metres north, staying in the school catchment, adding the bedroom that two children under three made necessary. They'd hired us because they were managing two children, a house move, and the specific logistical challenge of keeping a toddler away from cleaning products while simultaneously trying to clean an oven. We removed the cleaning from the equation. The pink crayon shadow and the milk outline on the carpet were life in a house with small children. Our job was to clean everything that could be cleaned and document everything that couldn't — and to make sure the inventory clerk's report distinguished between the two. It did. That's Fortis Green.