Still hopelessly devoted: Interview with Olivia Newton John ahead of her Celtic Connections concert

To add to the concern, there an interview condition attached, which asks that I don’t go all "tabloidy" and ask personal questions. Now, this is tricky to say the least given that the theme of the show is how music can help you overcome grief. Over the years, the 68-year-old has lost her sister to cancer, had a partner who went missing at sea and gone through her own breast cancer battle. If anyone knows about personal pain and loss, this singer does. And we can’t talk about it?

Seconds to countdown and I find myself panicking. Any hope of morphing into the very confident Grease character Danny Zuko to her Sandy disappears. Suddenly, I’m back in the bedroom of the 15-year-old boy with a feather cut and an Olivia Newton-John poster on the wall. I’m back in the day when she wasn’t just a bedroom wall crush, she was the future, the benchmark for every girlfriend to come.

Think. To relax, I watch the Antipodean wonder (thanks to YouTube) on a 1971 Top of the Pops programme, singing Dylan’s If Not For You, wearing a hippy floaty dress, curled-under tresses and a gorgeous fresh-faced smile.

It makes me feel worse. I’m still hooked. But now what do I say to the woman who melted my 15-year-old heart and left it a pile of gloop?

Now she’s speaking. To me. The conversation begins with Newton-John apologising for the poor line. “I live in the country,” she says of her home on the Florida coast, “and I have a little trouble with connections.” She then adds, with a little throaty laugh. “But we are on opposite sides of the earth after all.”

I can’t believe the words that then come out of my mouth. “Yes, but I’ve always felt we’ve been connected, spiritually, Olivia.” Amazingly, she doesn’t press the delete button on her laptop. In fact, she laughs. And I think she’s laughing in a nice way, not mocking at all. I think.

I’m on a roll. Tell me, Olivia, just out of curiosity, does every heterosexual male journalist who interviews you reveal you are their first true, and continuing love?

“You’re my first, Brian. You’re the only one,” she says in the sweet voice she used to sing Banks Of The Ohio. I say I believe her. Then I suggest she has bad eyesight. Why? If she didn’t, surely she would have noticed me staring at her in Bailey’s Night Club in Hull in 1971 (but not in a sad, stalkery sort of way). She laughs.

“I did lots of those shows,” she says, of the period when she played her music up and down the country, explaining why she can’t specifically remember me in the 400-strong crowd. And I can live with this. I love the fact she grafted, leaving home in Melbourne at the age of 17 after winning a competition that took her to England.

But then she adds, apropos nothing really: “You know my sister was born in Scotland, in Edinburgh.” And that’s her way, as I hear it, of saying we are connecting. What’s also possible is it’s her way of leading into her arrival in Glasgow. We go through a conversational gear change. We’re now talking about her concert, which has been predicated upon the album, Liv On. “It’s songs to make people feel better,” she says, the laughter now gone from her voice. “The idea started when I lost my sister [Rona, an actress, from brain cancer] three years ago. I was writing a song in my sister’s memory and was talking to my dear friend Amy [Sky, the Canadian singer] and asked if she would help me record it and put it together.

“It got a great reaction from my friends and I realised there really isn’t music for people who are going through loss. Then we thought about the album and invited Beth [Nielsen Chapman] to join us, who lost her husband 14 years ago.

“Anyway, we became a trio and decided to make an album all about our personal experiences and it’s a reminder we all go through loss and pain. It’s about realising there is no quick remedy for it but we live on, and we should be grateful for every day we have.”

The songs are cathartic. “When someone dies, for example, people don’t know what to say to you. They’re scared in case they say the wrong thing. So we wrote a song called You Don’t Know What To Say. Writing this album was a powerful time. It helped me to heal.”

Didn’t it also open the gates of emotion that bit wider? “Yes, but I think that’s healthy. You see, people don’t share their feelings of loss and grief, which I think can lead into depression. They become depressed, but don’t really know why.”

Gosh. I find myself telling her about the compound loss of a couple of friends, and that I can’t walk into the tennis club now without seeing ghosts. I haven’t told this to anyone before.

“It’s when you share these stories you find other friends will share. It’s only human to get it out there. It’s a great release.”

Olivia Newton-John hasn’t always opened up in the past. When her partner went missing from a boat off the coast of California she only spoke of it in the briefest terms. (Sightings were later claimed in Mexico.) She didn’t speak of her divorce to actor Matt Lattanzi, the father of her daughter, Chloe.

“Yeah, I’m pretty private,” she admits. “Except in areas that are common denominators. When I had breast cancer in 1992 I talked about that because I thought it might help other women. And now I have my Olivia Newton-John Cancer Research Centre in Australia and have created a wellness programme.”

She pauses: “I try to keep my life private but it’s very hard being in the public eye. But if I can help by talking I will.”

What emerges is that Olivia Newton-John may have sold 100m records, starred in the internationally successful 1978 musical, Grease and became a national treasure in the process, but none of that offers a forcefield against sadness. She laughs in agreement about the fickleness of fate. But she doesn’t complain. “I feel very privileged for my life. I’m grateful I’ve been able to live a normal life when I’m not working. I live in the country, I have the animals. I like to feed my horses and my dog and cat and my husband. It’s pretty normal stuff.

“I don’t take my [professional] life too seriously. I don’t believe the press handouts. I think that’s how I’ve managed to survive. I don’t hear the good and the bad. And I think it helps being raised in Australia. The tall poppy syndrome really exists there and I didn’t get praised unless I really worked hard."

Olivia Newton-John was born in 1948 in Cambridge, England; her father was an Enigma Code scientist who became a university professor. The family moved to Melbourne when she was five.

Her singing voice and good looks made her a natural for Australian television, films and pop groups. Coming to Britain she toured the clubs, worked hard, had the Dylan hit and landed the Cliff Richard Show, appearing every week alongside her friend. She had a string of hits and took off to America.

But did she hold it together during Grease, the 1950s American high school-set film, in which she starred alongside John Travolta? “Yes, because I’d been around for a while. [She was 30 when she played Sandy Olsson, the girl-next-door who becomes a vamp.] And I had my friends and my animals. But the invasion of privacy was nothing like young people have to deal with today, with social media.”

Newton-John is also relaxed about the ageing process. “I had breast cancer in 1992 and every year since then I’ve considered a gift. I’m not 70 yet, but I’m not far off.” She pauses and chuckles. “You know, I spoke to the guy who worked in the grocery store the other day and asked how he was, and he said, ‘Living the dream’. And he was, and so am I. But apart from when my daughter [Chloe] was born I’m having the best time of my life right now.”

Her voice is upbeat. You believe her. But what about the those performers of a certain age who choose to grow old disgracefully? Would Newton-John do a Madonna and have Playboy pictures taken in her vest and pants?

“No, it has never crossed my mind,” she says, laughing. “But good on her if she can do it.” But then Newton-John has never sought headlines. “I try to keep away from them.”

What helps survive showbiz, she says, is having a good support system, and supporting others. She certainly kept in touch with Cliff Richard during the two year-police investigation which was later dropped.

“Yes, of course. Your friends are your friends and you have to keep in touch. I adore Cliff and he was so badly treated and I’m so happy it’s been resolved. He’s an incredible person and all his friends rallied around.”

Olivia Newton-John cares. (We’re long past the 10-minute ruling.) Does she worry about the state of American politics, given Donald Trump has now picked up the keys to the kingdom? “I don’t talk about politics,” she says, nicely but emphatically. “It’s a landmine I’ve always managed to steer clear of. The only time I’ve been involved is when Al Gore was standing and I loved his environmental policies and stance against global warming.”

There’s a warmth to her voice but does that belie a cold determination? Surely you can’t last more than five decades in showbusiness without being ambitious?

“When I was young girl I was with my friend Pat [Carroll] from Melbourne [who also came to Britain and the pair became a duet]. I was lucky, and fortunate.

“Yet, while ambition sounded an awful word at the time I must have had some just to keep going. I think I always wanted to be better, to improve. And I just loved what I did. But I certainly had no plans to be a movie star. I’ve been blessed with great people around me.” And talent, resulting in a career in pop-country crossover.

The giggle in her voice returns. “You know, I’ve always thought that every decade would be the end of my career. In 2000 I sang at the Olympics for Australia with John Farnham and I reckoned that was the pinnacle. But I haven’t really stopped.”

She played Vegas in 2014 and has rarely stopped performing. And she still gives a great show. Olivia Newton-John says she wants to keep on working, even if it means coming to Glasgow in the middle of winter. “I love Amy and Beth, although not so much the travelling,” she says. “But I do love this show, which is the acoustic show of the record. It’s the three of us singing and talking, really and hopefully healing. And I hope it’s funny and honest."

In the spirit of honesty, I have to say to her I hope she’s very happy. But is her marriage (to businessman John Easterling) as happy as it seems? After all, he seems to get fed after the horses?

She laughs. Aloud. And tells me she has a wonderful husband. And I tell her I accept this. But should she be wondering where to have a nice coffee in rainy Glasgow during her down time, then, well, she has my number.

Olivia Newton-John giggles. “I will think about that.” And I wonder if she will. But I do know she’s the one I want to go and see at Celtic Connections.

Liv On, An Acoustic Evening With Olivia Newton-John, Beth Nielsen Chapman and Amy Sky takes place this Tuesday at 7.30 in the Glasgow Royal Concert Hall as part of Celtic Connections www.celticconnections.com