What we mean by a deep clean

People book a deep clean when they are embarrassed, which is a shame, because the work is ordinary and physical. Dust settles on the top of door frames whether you are a good person or not.

On a reset we move what we can lift. Sofas come off the wall. The cooker comes out if the floor lets it. We do not promise to shift a piano, and we will say so before we invoice you for heroics.

Wet rooms get scale treatment, not a wipe. That means the strip where the glass meets the tile, the tap bases, the overflow. It takes time and it smells faintly of vinegar for an hour. Open a window.

Appliance interiors are only included when they are empty enough to clean. A fridge full of jars is an archaeology project. Decant it the night before or book the add-on and stay in to tell us what can go.

You get a short snag list at the end: anything we could not do, and why. ‘Could not move the wardrobe, carpet underneath not seen.’ That piece of paper is the difference between a deep clean and a story about one.

Written by the crew, edited by Lewis Hart. Brightside is a fictional company; this is demo copy from the original theme.