End of Tenancy Cleaning in Perivale

A 1930s semi on Perivale Lane — one of the main residential roads running south from the station toward the Brent Valley, with a mix of interwar semis and bungalows along its length. Three bedrooms, a front lounge, a rear dining room, a separate kitchen, one family bathroom, no downstairs WC, and a back garden with an overgrown hedge that had encroached onto the patio by about two feet. The tenants — a family of four, two adults and two teenagers — had been there 18 months on a fixed-term AST at £1,750/month. The landlord — a retired teacher who lived in Ealing and owned three rental properties in UB6 — was doing the checkout himself the following weekend.

Parked on the driveway — a concrete strip beside the house, wide enough for one car. No restrictions on Perivale Lane, no permit needed. Carried the kit through the side gate and in through the back door. The tenants had already gone; the house had the echoey emptiness of a property between families.

Kitchen first. A separate galley kitchen along the side of the house — about 9 sqm, narrow, with worktops on both sides and a window at the end overlooking the garden. A freestanding gas cooker — a Cannon, dual fuel, single oven with a separate grill, 4-burner gas hob. Eighteen months of family cooking with teenagers, which means a specific oven profile: frequent use, higher volume than a couple, less careful than an adult-only household. The oven cavity was solidly greased — not the dramatic explosions of a student house or the archaeological layers of a 4-year tenancy, but a thick, even coating that said 'this oven was used every day and nobody cleaned it once.'

Door off. Glass out — a single pane on this model, easier than the two-pane jobs. Cavity sprayed with alkaline degreaser. First dwell: 20 minutes. While it dwelled: hob burner caps and pan supports into the soak tray. The hob enamel surface had a ring of baked-on residue around the front-left burner — the big burner, the one that handled the pasta pot, the frying pan, the wok. Targeted degreaser on the ring, separate 10-minute dwell.

Back to the oven. First pass: the sides and floor came clean. The roof above the fan housing was darker — the accumulated rising grease of 18 months of roasting and grilling. Second spray on the roof only, another 10 minutes. Second pass: the roof came up. The grill cavity: single spray, single dwell, one pass — lighter use than the main oven. The oven door glass: cleaned on both sides, the seal around the glass wiped. Reassembled. The hob ring: the 10-minute dwell had softened it, and a non-scratch scourer in firm circular motions lifted it in stages over three passes. Burner caps and supports: soaked and wiped, reassembled. Total oven and hob time: 40 minutes.

The rest of the kitchen. Laminate worktops: wiped — grey speckled laminate, the kind that hides crumbs but shows water marks. Dried thoroughly. Cupboard fronts: white gloss melamine, wiped — the handles had that slightly tacky residue that builds up in a family kitchen from cooking hands opening cupboards hundreds of times. Inside all cupboards and drawers — crumbs in the cutlery drawer, a sachet of soy sauce in the condiment cupboard, nothing unusual. Under the sink: the standard collection of dried-out sponges and limescale deposits around the pipe junction. Cleared and descaled.

Fridge-freezer: a freestanding unit tucked at the end of the kitchen. The fridge interior was in reasonable condition — the tenants had clearly emptied it properly before leaving. Shelves removed, wiped, replaced. Gaskets folded back and cleaned — a small amount of mould in the fold, treated. The freezer: a thin ice layer on the back wall, not dramatic. Door open, towel down, 15 minutes passive defrost while we moved to other rooms. Came back: wiped clean, drainage channel cleared.

Sink — stainless steel, single bowl. Descaled. The taps had moderate limescale — UB6's ~260 ppm water, 18 months of build-up. Descaler, 10-minute dwell, one pass. Clean. Extractor hood above the cooker: a basic canopy style, the filter not terrible (the tenants had replaced it at some point during the tenancy — a rarity). Filter soaked anyway, housing wiped. Floor — vinyl tiles — mopped. The back door to the garden: the threshold was the main event. The overgrown hedge had pushed onto the patio, and the transition zone between the kitchen floor and the outside step had accumulated 18 months of leaf debris, garden soil, and the fine green algae that grows on north-facing patio edges in damp weather. Vacuumed, scraped (the algae was embedded in the grouting of the step), wiped. The door track cleaned — soil and leaf fragments had worked into the runner from every opening and closing. 45 minutes for the kitchen total.

Bathroom. Upstairs — one family bathroom, the only bathroom in the house. A white suite, probably from a refit in the early 2010s: acrylic bath with a thermostatic shower mixer and a glass screen (single panel), semi-recessed basin on a vanity, close-coupled toilet, ceramic floor tiles.

The condensation mould was the first thing we addressed. The bathroom window — a small frosted casement, single-glazed — had mould growth along the bottom of the frame and in both lower corners of the surrounding plaster. The ceiling in the far corner (above the toilet, the coldest point in the room, furthest from the extractor fan) had a patch of black mould about the size of a dinner plate. The extractor fan itself was running but weakly — the cover was thick with dust, and the fan motor behind it was partially clogged.

Extractor fan cover: removed, washed. The fan blades: wiped clean of lint and dust. The motor housing: wiped where accessible. The fan ran noticeably stronger after cleaning — not fixed (it probably needed replacing), but improved. This is the kind of detail that matters in a landlord checkout: if the fan was working poorly and contributing to the mould, that's a maintenance issue, not a tenant cleaning failure. We documented the fan condition.

Window frame mould: anti-mould spray, 10-minute dwell. The surface mould came off. The staining beneath — where the mould had been growing for months, maybe longer than this tenancy — remained in the paint. Documented as requiring redecoration at the landlord's cost. Ceiling mould: same treatment. The surface mould lifted. The stain beneath was in the paint. The plaster behind felt sound (we checked by pressing — no softness, no dampness at the time of cleaning). Documented.

Shower screen: moderate limescale, concentrated at the bottom third. Descaler, 10-minute dwell, vertical strips, squeegeed. One pass — clean. Bath waterline: a visible ring, descaler, one pass. Shower head: mild scaling, descaler cloth wrap, 5 minutes. Basin: descaled around the taps, the overflow, the bowl. Toilet: inside the bowl, a calcium band at the waterline — descaler, 10-minute dwell, one pass with a pumice at the back of the bowl where the band was thickest. Under the rim scrubbed. Around the base and behind the cistern wiped. Tiles: half-height, wiped. Grout: dark in the shower area, anti-mould spray along the worst lines, grout brush. Most of it came up. Two lines remained faintly stained — documented. Sealant around the bath: intact, cleaned, slight yellowing accepted as age. Floor mopped. Heated towel rail: each bar. 35 minutes for the bathroom — the mould treatment and the extractor cleaning added genuine time.

Front lounge. Carpeted — a dark blue that had served the family well and showed minimal wear. Vacuumed thoroughly: full floor, edges, under the radiator. The bay window: three casement panes (UPVC double-glazed, not original 1930s). Cleaned in 7 minutes. A gas fire in the original fireplace opening — decorative, not connected, with a tiled hearth. Glass front wiped, surround dusted, hearth vacuumed. Curtain rail dusted. Skirting boards wiped. Radiator done. 18 minutes.

Rear dining room. Carpeted, a single window to the garden, French doors that hadn't been used (a key was still in the lock, seized — we cleaned the glass, wiped the handles, but didn't force the lock). Vacuumed. Radiator done. Skirting done. 12 minutes.

Three bedrooms. The master: carpeted, built-in wardrobes (double, sliding doors). Wardrobe tracks vacuumed — the tracks had accumulated fluff and dust that made the doors stick slightly. Interior wiped: shelves, rail, base. Window cleaned (casement). Radiator done. 15 minutes. Second bedroom — the older teenager's room. Carpeted, vacuumed. A poster had been blu-tacked to the wall above the bed position — the blu-tack was gone but left four small grease marks in the paint. We cleaned the marks — two came off, two left faint shadows. Documented. Window cleaned. 12 minutes. Third bedroom — the younger teenager's room. Carpeted, vacuumed. The windowsill had a ring stain from a drink can or glass left sitting through multiple nights — the condensation had reacted with the paint and left a pale circle. We wiped it, but the mark was in the paint surface, not on it. Documented. The skirting board had a scuff at shin height — a desk chair, probably. Cleaned to the extent possible. 12 minutes.

Stairs and landing. Carpet vacuumed — treads, risers, landing. Bannister wiped — each spindle. The airing cupboard: shelves wiped, hot-water cylinder dusted. Loft hatch: dusted. A cobweb in the corner of the landing ceiling — cleared with an extension tool. 12 minutes.

Hallway. Carpet — a continuation of the stair carpet. Vacuumed. Front door wiped inside. Radiator. Coat hooks. The electricity meter cupboard: opened, dusted. A pair of outgrown trainers had been left on the shoe rack — not our responsibility, but we noted them. 5 minutes.

Total time: 4.5 hours. Two people. A standard 1930s semi — the same house type we clean across Heston, Greenford, and the wider outer-West London belt. The mould treatment in the bathroom added 15 minutes. The oven added 40. The back-door threshold added 10. Everything else was systematic room-by-room house cleaning — no premium finishes, no period features requiring specialist products, no digital checkout to prepare for. Just thoroughness.

The landlord came on Saturday. He arrived with a folder — his own checklist, typed, the same document he'd used for every checkout across his three Perivale properties. He'd been doing this for 15 years and had refined his inspection to a 25-minute science. Kitchen: opened the oven immediately (his own torch, a small LED keychain light — not as serious as the Norbiton landlord's equipment but adequate). Checked the cavity roof, the back wall, the door glass. Satisfied. Checked the hob enamel where the ring had been — smooth. Opened the fridge, ran a finger along a shelf. Checked under the sink. Looked at the back-door threshold ('better than I usually get it back'). Extractor filter: held to the light.

Bathroom: went straight to the ceiling mould spot. Looked at it, looked at the window frame, then looked at the extractor fan. He could hear it running stronger than the last time he'd visited during the tenancy. 'The fan needs replacing — that's my problem, not theirs.' He checked the shower screen, the toilet bowl (torch), the grout. Noted the faint grout lines — 'I'll get those re-done before the next lot.' The sealant: accepted.

Bedrooms: opened the wardrobes, noted the wardrobe tracks now running smoothly, checked the windows. The blu-tack shadows in the teenager's room: 'I'll touch those up with paint — costs me a fiver.' The drink-ring stain: 'Same — paintwork.' He explicitly separated painting costs from cleaning charges — this was a landlord who understood the distinction, probably from experience or from having been educated by the DPS process over 15 years.

He spent 25 minutes. His conclusion: 'Clean. The mould and the paint marks are my side. I'll repaint the bathroom ceiling and touch up the bedrooms before the next tenancy.' He noted the abandoned trainers and put them in his car boot — apparently this happened often enough that he'd stopped being surprised.

Deposit returned via the DPS within 7 days. No deductions. The family had moved to a 4-bed semi in Greenford — the outer-West London upgrade path, adding a bedroom and a downstairs WC, staying on the Central Line, keeping the school connections. They'd hired us because the landlord's reputation preceded him: methodical, fair, but thorough. The tenants had heard from the previous occupants that he checked the oven with a torch and the extractor with his ears. They wanted to make sure the clean matched the inspection. It did.

That's Perivale. Not glamorous, not complicated, not expensive. A 1930s semi on a residential street, a gas oven that needed doing properly, a bathroom where the mould wasn't the tenant's fault, and a landlord who'd done this enough times to know the difference between a cleaning charge and a paint touch-up. The value proposition is simple: £265 for a professional clean that survives a 25-minute inspection by someone who inspects houses for a hobby. Cheaper than losing part of a deposit. Faster than doing it yourself with teenagers who'd rather be on their phones.