A Day with a Carpet Cleaner

"You have to be prepared for a real adventure!", Tom tells me as I get into his van. Really? I think, smiling along. But my day with a carpet cleaner turns out to be far more interesting than you might think...

Right off the bat, Tom is keen to tell me what an exciting and varied job it is.

"You get to work everywhere," he tells me. "Normal houses. Student houses. Flats, of course. Then there's a couple of mansions in West London that always make me think of museums. There's regular carpets, oriental rugs that cost about half a million. It's always different."

With Tom's cheerful conversation as the entertainment, it feels like we blast through the London traffic. We pull up at an address in SW6. It's a busy area, so I'm expecting some trouble parking. But Tom's confidence seems to force a space into existence for us.

It's about 600 yards away from the property though.

I offer to help carry the equipment over, but Tom happily tells me there's no need.

"It's my workout for the day," he explains. "With this job I don't need to go to the gym much - this machine must weigh 60 kilos!"

(I assume he's exaggerating until I surreptitiously test-lift it while he's not looking. He isn't. It's heavy.)

We head over to the address and Tom buzzes the door bell. It's answered by a sweet but slightly flustered young woman holding a little boy. She shows us in to a surprisingly clean and tidy little apartment. I can't see a hair out of place - an amazing feat for a house with children in - until I look down, that is.

The carpet is just covered in food stains. There's ink, a little mud - even some heart-shaped doodles.

The young mum, Amy, explains that the carpet is new, but the youngest member of the family has already had time to make some artistic improvements. Tom is smiling along to Amy's explanation, and soon starts to lay out what he's going to do.

He starts by spraying the carpet to rinse the dirt. Then, after a short wait, he pre-treats the stained sections, before using his hot water extraction machine on the fabric. Immediately the difference is noticeable, and by the end the carpet looks like new - and Amy looks immensely relieved. To the extent that she actually gives Tom a quick hug as we leave.

What a lovely lady, I say.

Tom grins.

"That's why I like this job so much, you know. During the day I get to meet people from all over London - business people, elderly people, families. I love meeting new characters. This next chap, for example..."

Apparently, we're going upscale for our next appointment. It's a mansion where every room looks like the house from Downton Abbey. Expensive paintings, sculptures, and soft Persian rugs are everywhere. It's like being on a movie set, Tom enthuses as we arrive.

"You'll see!" he continues excitedly. "He's a real gentleman, the guy that owns it. His family bought it in like 1935 - he'll tell you about it when we get in there.”

"He's got this story about how his mother was always worried that he'd stain the rugs as a kid. It really got me nervous the first time I treated them. They were some of the most expensive rugs I'd worked on at the time."

The elderly man who greets us at the door is indeed an old-school gentleman. He gestures like a tour guide as he shows us down the long, echoing hallways. I have to remind myself that he actually lives here.

We eventually come to the room that's home to the rugs. The procedure is going to take around 4-5 hours, so Tom is eager to get started.

He tells me about the low-moisture solutions that he'll be using. Apparently, no water is to go anywhere near these rugs. Even the way I step on them is important. I make an immediate mental note to step nowhere near them.

The gentleman - who, confusingly, is also called Tom - turns out to be interesting company. As Fantastic Tom draws closer to the end of the treatment, Gentleman Tom disappears in search of "refreshments".

He returns with a bottle of Scotch and three glasses. Tom starts to object, eventually falling back on the fact that I'm his boss, and he couldn't possibly.

Gentleman Tom's sense of hospitality isn't about to accept this though. So I make the executive decision that us each trying a very small sip of the very nice Scotch would be an acceptable compromise.

The scotch is a great end to a surprisingly varied day, and I disappear to make use of the rather impressive facilities before we leave.

When I re-enter the room, Fantastic Tom and Gentleman Tom are having some sort of quiet disagreement in the corner. It looks like Gentleman Tom is trying to give Tom something that he's too polite to accept.

As we drive away I ask Tom what it was about. He looks a bit guilty.

"He's given me the rest of the Scotch," he admits. "I didn't want to take it from him but he swears he's got a whole selection in there." He pauses. "Plus, it's a really nice scotch."

I ask if this is the usual sort of tip he gets.

"Nope," he replies. "You won't see me complaining though!"

And so ends my day with a carpet cleaner. Next week I'll be starting off with a big breakfast and a limbering up session. Because I'm going to be having a day with the removals experts...?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Rune Sovndahl, co-founder of Fantastic Services, has built his domestic services business from scratch to a point where they serve 230,000 domestic clients in London, the South East and the North West. With a ￡28m turnover, it is easily the largest domestic cleaning company in London, yet the company has been self-financed since the outset. As well as the UK, Fantastic Services is already established as a leading cleaning company in Australia and USA.