“With you in a minute.” As I saunter nervously into her dressing room, Victoria Hesketh, aka Little Boots, is stabbing angrily at her iPhone. I sit awkwardly on an adjoining sofa, wondering how to address her (Vicky? Miss Boots?), as she mutters under her breath, editing away at what sounds like a rather terse e-mail. After a tumbleweed-strewn minute or so, she casts the device aside, in the direction of her Mac. An Apple person, perhaps? “I dunno. It’s quite fun, but it’s a shit phone. Good at everything but making calls”. Perhaps not.

Midway through her UK tour, and following on from a marathon blitz of 33 summer festivals, Little Boots is at the Junction, and in spite of the fatigue is preparing to battle her way through another gig. “I’m quite tired”, she admits, “but you just get that superhuman strength every night, then crumple again.” Exhaustion disregarded, is it worth it? “I really enjoy performing, and all the creative bits I love, but it’s just all the travelling, and all the bullshitty stuff. There’s a real two halves of it.”

Prior to Victoria’s meteoric ascent to fame, she sang and synthed in the eyeshadow-tastic all-indie girl band Dead Disco. Their limited but acclaimed repertoire earned them solid reviews, positive word-of-mouth on the scene and a recording contract in LA, but the trio split up after the two other members discovered Victoria’s secret – guerrilla pop, clandestinely written, as a response to label pressure to fit a preferred style. She subsequently returned home to Blackpool, adopted the stage name Little Boots, and began accumulating YouTube subscribers with bedroom videos of pop piano covers.

After writing her own material, she got in touch with American producer Greg Kurstin, a contact cultivated during her formative indie days. Together they began work on her debut Hands, when, without warning, she was declared the BBC Sound of 2009, and hurled into the spotlight. Under strenuous pressure to finish the record in time for a summer release, she began the media rounds, including a memorable appearance on Later... with Jools Holland, during which she wielded three instruments at once. Having undertaken that kind of journey in the space of a year, such a sense of ‘two halves’ must surely be especially pronounced? “It’s a mix of a lot of emotions. Bits that were pressurised and full of expectations, bits that were amazing and euphoric, bits when you just wanna cry and quit and run away. It’s a very bumpy ride.” She shrugs, “But I don’t think I’d swap it.”

As I chat to her, her diminutive frame skulks into the corner of her sofa, generating the distinct appearance of someone who’d definitely rather be asleep than suffering through another pre-gig interview. “At the moment I just stay in bed” she replies, when I inquire as to how she spends what little downtime the tour affords her. “I’ve just bought a house though, so I’m spending a lot of time talking to floor people and window people”.

I try to wince sympathetically, and for the first time, her face lights up. “But I’m so happy doing that! I just want to stay home and bake and paint nowadays.” With glee, she elaborates upon her plans. “I LOVE gardening, but I haven’t really got the gardening situation at the new house sussed yet. I had a huge grapevine and loads of tomato plants before. I reckon I’ll go round next summer and take some cuttings to get them going at the new place. It’s really de-stressful.”  Not akin the music then? She disagrees. “Putting a lot into something then seeing the results, reaping the rewards – it’s kind of a similar cycle. I once said making an album’s like growing cabbages”.

Trying to steer the conversation into different waters, I ask her about films. “I watched The Abyss the other night. The submarine film with aliens, remember? It was fucking great. I like fantasy films, Lord Of The Rings. We’re gonna get the full extended version for the trip to France next week and watch the whole thing. It’s like 12 hours,” she says, with obvious yet perverse relish for someone who admits that she talks all the way through even films of standard length. Her album art, stage design and music videos are laden with symbols, stars, and constellations, and I ask if she’s into sci-fi. “Anything a bit space, anything a bit fantasy,” she nods. My nerd heart skips a joyous beat when she confesses to being a Star Wars fan, although it’s quickly followed up with the inevitable caveat of ‘not a diehard though’.

We move on to television. “We watch Curb Your Enthusiasm all the time on the tour bus. I like Spooks as well. I like anything with spies in. If I wasn’t a musician I might be a spy. A spy gardener”. Armed with or without shears, did she ever apply to MI:5? “Nah, but I reckon I would’ve done if I’d not done music. It’d be quite fun. I don’t know if I’d be very good in the face of death. But I reckon I’d be quite a good spy. I’m quite small, quite good at hiding. I can disguise myself as a small child quite easily.”

Victoria attended Leeds University, and came away with a First in Cultural Studies, admitting in shyly hushed tones that she was “a bit of a swot”, but proud that she made the most of the party scene. “I had a great time at uni. I was really cheesy: I think that’s the best way to be. Especially in first year. I was your absolute cheesy, by-the-book fresher. I was dressed up as a bunny or a schoolgirl every week, and went to all the shit parties. Loads of my friends were all too cool for school, and I had a fucking wicked time. The uni ski trips were the best memories. They were amazing. The ones where all the unis go to the same place and just trash some poor alpine village? Yeah, ski trips were awesome. Love that shit”, she murmurs fondly.

So what does the future hold? “We’re touring up to the end of the year, and there’s lots of promotion for the new single. It’s really busy up to Christmas, and then I’ll have a little bit of time off hopefully. First half of next year’s gonna be a US tour”. The thought alone seems to exhaust her. She glances away when I ask about future album plans. “I’m not in any rush. I don’t even feel like doing one at the minute. I need to just clear my head and get away from it.”

Time is up, and I try to round off with a feel-good question. Out of everything, of what is Little Boots most proud? She looks faintly uncertain. “Erm,” she ponders, “I’m pretty proud of my Gold Disc. Maybe that. My house? I feel like I really worked for it. It’s there, and I own it, and that’s amazing.”And with that, she returns to her maligned iPhone to finish thrashing out that e-mail to the lino people.