A young woman pops her head into Kirsty Wark's office. ''Rory Bremner is on the phone. He says it's urgent.'' Kirsty politely apologises for the interruption and takes the call. She listens for a few seconds. She says: ''Sorry? You want me to do Prince Charles? I can't do Prince Charles, Rory. I don't have the ears.'' There's a brief pause as she listens. ''Oh, I see. Right! You want me to interview Prince Charles!''

This tells you two things about Kirsty Wark. First, that she's got a neat sense of humour. And secondly, that she has pretty much made it to the top of her chosen profession.We are, after all, talking here about the man who would be King. And with Rory Bremner acting as go-between, to boot. How much bigger do you want, for God sake?

At 43, Kirsty Wark is the most influential woman in Scotland. This is not Kirsty's opinion. This is the opinion of a Sunday newspaper which, for the want of something better to do, recently published a list (it's big on lists) of the nation's top 50 females. Kirsty was numero uno. A commendable 49 women ahead of Ma Broon. It described her as ''cool, calm, and collected''.

Well, not today she's not. Because today, halfway through munching a fried egg roll, the yoke has slittered down her black dress. This tells you (another) two things about Kirsty Wark. First, that she is no health freak when it comes to eating. And secondly, that, just like you and me, normal mishaps befall her.

But the most influential woman in Scotland? ''These things are entirely subjective. They're just a bit of fun. I'm a broadcaster; I don't do a real job,'' she replies.

So we try again. But the most influential woman in Scotland? ''No. I'm not particularly influential,'' she says. Then she thinks for a moment. ''What I would say is that I get a lot of mail from young women at school saying that they are interested in journalism, and I think that is because they see women like me on television. So, in that way, I suppose I might be influential.''

The great irony about people like Kirsty Wark is that, though their job requires a voracious appetite for politics, they cannot afford themselves the simple luxury of expressing their own political beliefs, at least not in public. This is not to suggest that they don't have them; it's just that, in order to ensure their impartiality, they can't afford to talk about them.

So what did you vote at the last General Election, Kirsty? ''Pardon?'' she replies. I said what did you vote at the last General Election? ''Pardon?'' she says again. ''Let's just say that I voted.''

Actually, it is surprising that she found the time. She is arguably the busiest broadcaster in Britain. She could circumnavigate the globe for free with the air miles she earns courtesy of her constant shuttle between Scotland and England. Her working week is split betwixt the Glasgow offices of Wark Clements, the successful production company which she runs with her husband Alan Clements, and Broadcasting House in London, where she fronts BBC2's Newsnight programme.

This week she is making the final preparations for Words With Wark, a new series of which starts on BBC Scotland tomorrow night. She is particularly pleased to have secured a good old-fashioned scoop for the second show in the series. Freed Saudi nurse Lucille McLauchlan has agreed to face her first television grilling. And the beauty is that, the way the programme is structured, with members of the audience setting the agenda, McLauchlan will be flying without a parachute, unable to control the questions which crop up. Kirsty's expressive eyes sparkle gleefully at the prospect.

As a broadcaster, she revels in the rapid-fire, thinking-on-your-feet, nature of Newsnight and Words With Wark. But she is the first to admit that there is a damned sight more than just her mind involved in the process. Granted, she is the one who asks the questions but, behind the scenes, there is a battery of researchers supplying the background knowledge.

''We all have our limitations when it comes to our jobs. I mean, I am passionately interested in domestic and foreign policy but I'm no great hot shot when it comes to economics. But I work with great producers and researchers and we do our homework; cover all the bases.

''What seems like a great Exocet of a question may be a damp squib unless you can back it up with facts. There's no point in asking someone something if they come back with 'How do you know that?' and you can't tell them,'' she explains. Kirsty Wark also has her own personal code of standards. She hates, she says, to see innocent people harangued or harassed by interviewers. She also believes that a person's private life is not a legitimate line of inquiry - unless, like some politicians, it involves blatant hypocrisy.

So what, I ask, would she have done last week if she had been in Jeremy Paxman's shoes when Matthew Parris delivered what you might call an Exocet of an answer, namely ''outing'' Cabinet Minister Peter Mandelson?

Without hesitation, she replies: ''I would have done exactly the same as Jeremy did. I wouldn't have handled it any differently at all.''

Whether or not she would have followed it up, as Paxman apparently did, with a personal letter of apology to Mandelson is another question altogether. And one which she prefers not to consider.

With a foot in both the Scottish and English TV news camps, Kirsty Wark is in a unique position when it comes to expressing an opinion on BBC Scotland's controversial plan to set-up a post-devolution integrated Six O'Clock News, anchored in Glasgow.

Her position is unequivocal: it should happen. ''Why is there still this misconception that there has to be a kaleyard element involved? We are not talking about integrating Dumfries with Ayr. It's just making sure that stories in Kilmarnock and Kosova are covered. It's making sure you have a running order which will accommodate stories about Scottish education instead of English education.''

But she must have detected strong opposition to the plan from her London colleagues, surely? ''Well, I don't see any great drive against it to be honest. Most of the people I speak to who are working in news in London are agnostic on the subject. I don't think any of them feel threatened. There's a feeling that they understand that the UK is changing and that the BBC has to change with it. It's not about separation; it's about integration,'' she adds.

But is there the talent in Scotland to carry out the task? ''Yes, of course there is. We'd need more of them. But the idea that someone who is a journalist in London is somehow a better journalist than someone who is working in Glasgow is ridiculous. I just don't understand that logic.''