'You can see we're lovers'

The Café Pushka in Moscow, and a young, scrawny girl comes in, sits down and starts babbling, a hail of Russian words tripping over themselves in the rush to get out. "She is saying," the interpreter smiles, trying to keep up, "that the paparazzi have been following her and that she didn't want them to take her picture because she was smoking."

The girl smiles, nodding her head vigorously. "She says it is very intrusive," the interpreter adds. The girl and her companion sit at the table, unrecognised by the café's clientele, even after they have removed their baseball caps.

But the girls of Tatu, for it is they sitting in front of me (a feat that seemed impossible a couple of days ago, when the interview was confirmed and cancelled so many times it looked as if it might never happen), don't seem particularly bothered, continuing their discussion on the perils of fame animatedly. Fame, they conclude, is a tough business indeed.

While they love being famous - "Of course we do, we've always wanted it" - they also claim that "with everything going so fast, we have had depressions, we've cried and we've been near breakdown".

Tatu (t.A.T.u. is their preferred spelling) are Russia's first pop superstars. Their first English-language single, All The Things She Said, was number one in Britain for four weeks at the beginning of the year, selling more than 13 million copies worldwide.

And yet their success has been about more than the girls just having a decent tune under their belt. Under the somewhat suspect guidance of their pop Svengali, Ivan Shapovalov, Tatu (Russian slang for "this girl loves that girl") caused outrage with the accompanying video to their single, which showed them dressed in minuscule school uniforms, kissing in the rain as their shirts became ever more transparent.

The girls, Lena Katina and Yulia Volkova, milked it for all it was worth, regularly expounding on the joys of lesbianism ("Do you want to hear that we are f***ing every night? Of course we do") and posing, seemingly happily, in nothing but their underwear, prompting some quarters to label them the most recent exponents of "paedopop". As an exercise in cynical manipulation and publicity-seeking, it has been breathtaking.

And yet, as you sit opposite the girls, you can't help but warm to them. Yulia, the spiky-dark-haired one, is the bolshier of the two, full of back-chat (albeit in Russian - she can't speak English) and in need, it seems, of a decent meal. Lena, with her dyed red hair and moon-shaped face, is more circumspect. It is rare for the girls to give a full interview; rarer still for them not to be under the watchful gaze of their manager, Shapovalov. Both, it must be said, look much younger than their reputed 18 years of age.

This month sees the release of their second single, Not Gonna Get Us, with another controversial video, which sees the girls driving a truck and mowing down a Russian guard while declaring their love for each other in the most ear-piercing tones possible.

It is bound to inflame the righteous indignation of parents and social commentators alike, but for Lena and Yulia, such stuff is the necessary oxygen of their fame and they breathe it willingly.

But the main source of their intrigue, of course, lies in their relationship - are they or aren't they lovers? - and they milk the speculation accordingly. "Yes, we are girlfriends with each other," says Yulia.

"Although we don't have to convince anyone," adds Lena. "We've known each other for about eight years, but I couldn't really tell you when we first started seeing each other. We are in love, though. Have we had boyfriends? Of course we have - you have to try boys first."

"I'd say we were probably bisexual," corrects Yulia. "Now, we feel great together, but maybe some time we'll feel like being with boys." "Some day, we might want to get married and have children," says Lena, "or maybe we'll end up having children together. Yulia can be the father and I can be the mother."

She stops. "Who knows? Even if we do have boyfriends, we'll still be close, I know that. But you can see us - you can see that we're lovers, can't you?" Well, no, not particularly, but never let it be said that the truth got in the way of a good gimmick.

Apparently, neither the girls nor their parents knew of the explicit lesbian nature of the group until after they had signed a five-year contract to be in the band, and several newspapers have already outed their "boyfriends".

Although they claim to be lovers, when asked, neither has any intention of living with the other - Yulia wanting to "build a home in the Moscow countryside" and Lena deciding to buy a flat in the centre of town.

But in truth, the question of their sexuality is the least important. Rather more worrying is the extent to which the two girls are being manipulated, both by the industry itself and by Shapovalov. The rather seedy character of this 36-year-old former child psychologist has already been called into question. He readily admits he prefers "underage girls" and one former lover claimed that he used his position as a pop Svengali to have sex with girls desperate to become famous.

Indeed, he has admitted that in auditioning youngsters he "[takes] advantage of this constantly. Constantly! This is how I intend to find a new bride".

Yulia is quick to deny rumours she has slept with Shapovalov, but it is clear she is somewhat in his thrall, adoringly describing him as "a legendary person and so talented - we love him and he loves us". Both she and Lena assert that it is "definitely not true he exploits us - we're our own personalities and we do what we want".

Well, regardless of whether that is true, they are savvy enough to stand their ground in an interview situation. "We can say 'no' to anything we don't feel comfortable with," Lena tells me.

"For instance, Ivan's latest idea is for us to be shooting some pictures with 200 naked girls and that we should be topless in the pictures. Although Yulia is quite calm about it, I said I wouldn't do it because I didn't feel comfortable with the idea."

Yet doesn't Lena feel that the whole thing might be somewhat exploitative? "Well, it's controversial and nobody's ever done it before. Not everyone is going to feel good about it, but I think it's great," she says quietly. Despite their protestations that all is well in the Tatu camp, you can't help but sense that the girls already seem jaded. "We are tired a lot because we always have to think about work. I've been working [as a singer] since I was 10," says Yulia.

"Although I always wanted to grow up quickly, I sometimes feel sad that I missed out on my childhood and on having fun. When you're a child, you have no problems, but I've known grown-up problems since I was young.

"I mixed with adults from the age of 14, and although I never used to like mixing with people my own age, I sometimes wish I could return to my childhood and just play in the yard and go out with my friends, like everyone does. But I never did that and I always wanted to be the centre of attention ..."

"She still does," interjects Lena. Both girls grew up in Moscow, with Yulia the only child of Oleg, a businessman, and Larissa, a hair stylist. Her upbringing was poor, although she insists that her parents encouraged her musical ambitions and are now "very supportive about Tatu, even though some people don't like what we do".

Lena is the third daughter of struggling musicians, Sergei and Inessa, and her background, too, was disadvantaged - she started working at the age of 11.

"Yulia and I live such grown-up lives now and we know how to solve adult problems, but I think we missed out on our childhoods. It makes me sad sometimes, but we have other things that have made it better - and we wouldn't change them."

Certainly they have the cushions of fame, money, adulation and - a rarity for a Russian pop act - success, but at what cost to themselves? The video for one of the songs off their debut album, 200km/h in The Wrong Lane, shows Yulia seemingly masturbating while thinking of Lena.

Did she not find it degrading? "No, and I wasn't embarrassed at all," Yulia asserts, "it's something every girl does."

"Not every girl," corrects Lena. "Well, I believe every girl does it," insists Yulia, adding tellingly: "Anyway, it was Ivan's idea and I think it was a good one."

Mercifully, Yulia and Lena have retained some childish traits (they tell you gleefully that the best thing about fame is having enough money to buy their family and friends presents), but the reality is that they are old way beyond their years.

"What will we be doing in 20 years' time?" asks Lena. "Well, I'll be a film director and Yulia will be ill and will need psychological help - and I'll have to look after her," she laughs, although Yulia doesn't laugh back. It probably isn't that funny.

In the meantime, though, the girls have enough to worry about. Their proposed UK tour is said to have been axed, with Tatu claiming Yulia has lost her voice (she admitted having throat problems to me but said that any suggestion she had had an operation earlier this year was "rubbish"), while other sources claim poor ticket sales have been the cause of the tour's cancellation. Either way, the promoters are set to lose £300,000.

In addition, Tatu have the Eurovision Song Contest on 24 May to concern themselves with, as they are scheduled to be performing the Russian entry. They have already been warned not to behave outrageously, "but we don't care about their worries", says Yulia. "If they don't like what we do, then that's their problem."

Our hour is up and one can't help thinking that although the girls are at times as precociously showbizzy as you might have imagined ("Do we want to conquer America? We already have"), they are also surprisingly vulnerable-and likeable when not in their manager's immediate control.

As for Shapovalov, one can only wonder whether he sleeps comfortably at night.

Are the girls of Tatu being exploited? Of that there seems little doubt, though how much responsibility we too must share by buying into the hype and egging the girls on can't be ignored. At least, though, they are feisty enough not to give in without a fight. "Don't forget," says Lena, "we might be exploiting other people, too."

For their sakes, you truly hope they are.
Not Gonna Get Us is out on 19 May.