The other side of showbiz

Then there are the naturally shy who somehow come alive on a professional stage when they can hide behind the mask/costume. Yet in interviews even the latter almost always perform the role of Confident Person.

Not Anita Vettesse. When the microphone is placed on the table, the small office at BBC's Pacific Quay suddenly takes on the appearance of an interrogation room - with Vettesse looking as though she's the prime suspect. Her eyes are the shaky, almost watery eyes of a child who's been caught putting on her mother's new make-up.

But the nervousness is even more surprising in a 40-year-old with a huge range of drama productions to her credit, from High Road to Waterloo Road. Here is an acclaimed stage actress who simply astonished as the fearless Lady Macbeth (twice) - yet she's fearful of talking about herself. Indeed, only a year ago Vettesse declined to be interviewed for her lunchtime theatre role in a play at Glasgow's Oran Mor (in which, incidentally, she shone).

Why the fear of chat? We'll come to that. But for easy openers let's talk about her upcoming role in the BBC TV comedy drama, Bob Servant (with Brian Cox in the lead role). In the new series, hot dog van man Bob becomes insanely jealous on realising his "sauce apprentice" Frank (Jonathan Watson) has a saucy new girlfriend, the sexually (very) liberated Dorothy (Vettesse).

"It was great fun to film," says the actress, smiling, but in a soft, nervous voice. "Johnny and Brian were like a double-act, like Hancock and Sid James. But what was really great was doing comedy on TV for the first time. The trick was to play it straight, to let the guys be funny. And I loved the idea of being the sexual adventurer, yet not declaring it out loud. Dorothy gets to play it as if wild sex is as shocking as having a cup of tea."

Let's try another light question: why so many vamps in her CV? In Johnny McKnight's play A Perfect Stroke at Oran Mor last year, Vettesse played a teacher who creates a flurry of chalk dust when she gets too close to a pupil. And back in the days of STV's High Road, her mini-skirted student character blew into Glendarroch like a tornado and wreaked sexual havoc. Why do producers see her as wonderfully wanton?

"I get the sexy roles because I've got long dark hair," she laughs. "With hair like this you either get offered seductresses - or social workers."

Has her "Mediterranean" look (the adjective used in her CV) been a career help or a hindrance? "A bit of both, actually. Sometimes you don't get the roles you'd want, because you don't have blonde hair, but then you do get the baddie roles in panto." When casting Scots, are directors still looking for the stereotypical Disney image with curly red hair and milky skin? "Partly," she says with a shrug. "But you just have to go with it and think, 'Bugger it. I'll take the baddie roles!'"

Such as Lady Macbeth? "Yes, she was great to play," she says. "It was great to revisit the play, first in Hereford when I was younger and later with the National Theatre of Scotland in 2007."

The Vettesse nerves seem to be settling, yet their continued visibility prompts the question: why would a person so naturally introverted choose an acting career, in which you are continually assessed and judged? "It all sort of came about by accident," she reflects. "I certainly didn't come from a showbiz background. I was never a jazz hands kid at all." She stops speaking, to look at her non-jazz hands and declares: "Look, I'm sweating, even thinking about why I go on stage."

Vettesse, who grew up in Edinburgh, adds: "My parents are Italian shopkeepers who came to Scotland after the war. My early life was about helping them, and I certainly never thought of acting. My parents would have been much happier if I'd married an Italian man and opened a cafe. But the spark came when I went to high school and realised I could sing. I was chosen to appear in Calamity Jane, in the Doris Day role, and I loved it so much I went on to join little drama theatre groups."

A wide smile emerges as she continues: "At first I thought of going to musical theatre, and I was actually offered a place in Mountview College in London, but I couldn't afford to take it up so I applied to the Royal Conservatoire in Glasgow, getting in at the second attempt. And while my parents couldn't really understand my career choice, once I'd made it they were really lovely and supportive."

It was raw talent rather than driving ambition that saw the graduate Vettesse join 7:84 Theatre Company. "They were great, and loyal to me," she recalls of the agitprop group. "I wasn't necessarily interested in political theatre but it was a chance to act and sing and work. And later Wildcat offered the same."

Buoyed (relatively for a shy twenty-something), Vettesse boarded the night bus to London to seek her fortune. "I don't know how I managed to take the plunge," she admits now. "I ended up working three (casual) jobs just to keep my head above water. It got so hard I came home."

Back in Scotland, Vettesse worked hard and built up a solid reputation that was to see her become a regular with the likes of Random Accomplice Theatre group. Yet, paradoxically, the desire to be a performer is less powerful than her fear of delivering that performance.

How does the nervous creature she is make it onto the stage? "With the help of Paul McKenna's book on positivity," she says, laughing now, forgetting the tape recorder in front of her. "I have to tell myself I'm just playing at shops. And I realise the longevity of this career is so short I might as well enjoy it. The job in itself is hard enough without making yourself ill."

Does it really make her ill? "The work still keeps me awake at night, worrying I've got I right," she says in a more serious voice. "It's something I'm trying to get rid of, to really enjoy the work, and trying not to eat my own hand when I'm lying in bed at night." She adds, with a wry smile: "I'm at the point now where I can sort of do that."

Vettesse clearly thinks deeply about her roles. Too deeply? Perhaps. But, she points out, the analysing is paramount, to get the nuance the character needs. "I love the rehearsal period more than the actual performance, the equation-solving," she maintains. "I almost wish I could rehearse 50 weeks a year and perform for the other two."

Come on, Anita. Surely you love being on stage? The appreciation, the applause ... the love? Isn't that the actor's true motivation? "Not for me."

Interestingly, Vettesse reckons it's easier to play a lead role such as Lady Macbeth than a supporting character. "The smaller parts allow for too much time to think, for the demons to appear," she admits.

The more serious roles, she reveals, can create serious consternation in the mind of the serious actor. "When I've been in dark, demanding roles such as playing the mum in knife crime drama Fleeto, you find yourself upset on stage every night. The problem is, your subconscious doesn't know you are acting, so you carry this weight around. Psychologists say it's like wearing a damp coat, you are carrying this extra weight around all the time, and your mind can be affected."

"Which explains," she adds, with an upbeat, tone-shifting laugh, "why you can suddenly burst into tears in the middle of Tesco. But getting older helps you to deal with it all."

Now that she's laughing a lot, the questions can become cheekier. What of her Lady Macbeth, the ultimate ambition monster? It says wonders for her talent that the shy Vettesse could wow critics with her performance, but what part of her own central core did she channel to become this dark, dangerous woman?

"No part," she says chuckling. "I read the text. It's all in there."

Clearly, Vettesse both loves, and is stressed by, acting. But what also helps her to deal with the demands of performance is her other job. House-cleaning. "I've been a cleaner for the past 20 years," she declares. "I've worked with the same woman and I do five-hour stints and I really enjoy it. It gives my mind a chance to switch off. You need something to give you perspective in life."

What's fascinating is Vettesse finds acting so demanding, yet to allow the career to continue she'll clean houses. The part-time job also highlights how tough the business can be. "Cleaning allows me not to be totally [financially] dependent on the business," she says.

Vettesse, who now lives in Burnside near Glasgow, has a long-term partner of 15 years, and no children. "I struggle to look after myself!"

But at least her struggle with the acting demons will abate for a while. Now that Vettesse has finished filming her Bob Servant series, she's taking a break from stage appearance to concentrate on writing. Her first play, Ring Road, will be produced in Perth next year. "It's a comedy and it features a female lead with long black hair who lures her brother-in-law to a Travelodge so she can be impregnated," she reveals with a pleased look on her face. "I did a reading at the Tron Theatre in Glasgow and the audience laughed, so let's hope ..."

She won't be appearing in her own play. ("Too much added pressure.") "Hopefully it gives me another string to my bow," she says of the new journey as a playwright.

Anita Vettesse turns out to be great fun in conversation. She clearly takes her work very seriously, but not herself. Yet, what's clear is she appears to view an interview as she does a stage performance. Except she has no script to fall back on.

"I think that's true," she says, smiling. "I do worry rather a lot. You become an actor to get away from your own personality and then you're asked to talk about it in an interview. And I worry I will mumble, which is exactly what I'm doing now, trying to explain."

A big smile breaks onto her face: "Maybe if I were Angelina Jolie and did lots of them I'd get much better."

The new series of Bob Servant begins on Monday, December 1, BBC1 Scotland, 10.35pm