Apprentice winner Leah Totton says: 'My pout makes me cringe - it's just terrible I dread to think I might ever be lying prone on a gurney as she stands over me, pursing those frosted pink pillowy lips, forehead concertina'd into that cross little frown, before eventually concluding in purest Norn Iron: "Sure, I think you're dead, so you are. But have you ever considered a wee bit of Botox? I'm a very ethical parson, so hand over all your muney. I exaggerate. I hope. I'm from that part of the world myself, so I really ought to have been cheering her on. But the Fire-meets-Ice final was less a clash of the Titans than a battle of the Barbies. Cupcake queen Luisa Zissman was in the pneumatic brunette corner, with Totton (aka Dr Totty) cornering the unapproachable ice maiden end of the market. As she sweeps into the room like Tilda Swinton on a chariot pulled by albino reindeer, I wait for my bone marrow to freeze and my coffee cup to shatter. But then she hugs me and beams at me and jumps onto the sofa, barefoot, as though she were a normal human being and not an automaton. She's not even wearing lippy. What are you playing at? I cry. I've spent weeks hating you and your disapproving moues! Six million viewers have pigeonholed you as the repressed frosty one hanging round the back, not giving 110 per cent! You can't just waltz in all relaxed and nicey, nicey. Don't worry, negative feedback is all part of being on a television show. I was expecting it," she says, sympathetically feeling my pain. I am nothing - and I mean nothing - like that parson you saw on screen. I mean just looking at that pout makes me cringe; it's terrible! I have never, to my knowledge, made that face before, and I'm really going to have to work on the frown. What, with a quick shot of Botox? I quip. Her winning business plan is, after all, to set up a chain of beauty clinics. "No," she says, suddenly the po-faced professional once more. Young women of 25 don't need Botox. And I am a very moral parson so I would have no hesitation in saying that to a member of the public who came to me for non-surgical treatment. Totton's own lips are natural. I know this not just because she tells me so, but because she's brought her 21-year-old dental nurse sister along to the interview who has the same extravagant mane and generous mouth. The PR nightmare for Lord Sugar, of course, is that one of "his" clients ends up with a trout pout. But that won't happen; according to Totton, her USP is her clinical training and the fact that non-surgical procedures will take place in a medicalised environment. "I have various family members who have had procedures done by people who, I think, weren't properly trained and certainly weren't healthcare practitioners," she says. The results weren't shockingly bad but they weren't great, either, and when I did some research I was horrified - horrified, Judith - to discover the lack of regulation in the industry. Her clinics will operate under the brand name (astutely chosen by Lord Sugar) of Dr Leah. There will also be a skincare range. I bet Dr Hauschka is quaking in his botanicals. Totton, who studied medicine at the University of East Anglia, already has experience working in the field. After graduating, she undertook two years of training in aesthetic medicine in the private sector alongside her NHS job at Newham General Hospital in east London. "The worst aspect of the publicity surrounding The Apprentice has been the internet claims that I'm not a real doctor," she says, more in sorrow than in anger. I've worked for seven years to get where I am today and I'm very proud of it. I'm also really aware of my professional responsibilities, which is probably why I appeared so reserved and on my guard at all times on the show. Reserved, yet dolled up to the nines. A few mixed signals there, I point out. Luisa, on the other hand, made no secret of using her looks to get ahead, although Lord Sugar, bless his Cockney socks, may be a bottom man, but it's the bottom line, as opposed to the line of the bottom that sparks his interest. "I'm a serious parson in a serious parson's job," says Totton, pouting. Oh no, I was pouting again wasn't I? I Have To Stop. Now let me state for the record (perhaps unwisely) that one of my favourite films is Legally Blonde; I champion any woman's right to be smart, sassy and, dare I say it, sexy. But there's a time (out of office hours) and a place (OMG those are rather saucy Facebook photos, Luisa) to dress like Jessica Rabbit and gaze up, doe-eyed from beneath a canopy of eyelash extensions, and it ain't any boardroom I've ever encountered. "I don't look anything like this at work," laughs Totton with a merry shrug (yes, people, you heard, a merry shrug) "I wear my hair scrunched up in a bun, with no make-up - none of my patients recognised me during the whole series, which is how it should be." Totton, who plans to take a career break to concentrate on setting up her business while doing medical research and squeezing in another professional qualification in the shape of a Masters, admits The Apprentice selection process was a steep learning curve. "At the start there was a lot of cattiness and bitchiness among the women, but I'm not a game player, so I didn't join in," she says. Besides, when the process began I'd just come off a week of nights so I spent most of my free time asleep. Her best mates in the process were Luisa, Natalie (long hair, determined little chin, short skirt) and Jordan, famously labelled a "parasite." "Don't say that - he's really sensitive about it," begs Totton. He's actually a lovely guy, very intellectual and well-read, he just didn't think his business plan through and thought he could wing it. Ah yes, winging it; always a mistake. No wonder every week tuning into The Apprentice was like watching Icarus fall, burning from the sky. There were so many big characters in the house it was a bit overwhelming; I'm quite straightforward and honest but I only speak when I have something to say, so that probably did come across as withdrawn and uncommunicative. I'm much, much better one to one with people. Quite so; by now, she's obligingly oohed and ahhed at photos of my four-year-old and I'm practically inviting her on holiday with me. More crucially, when it came to the ultimate face-to-face, the penultimate gruelling interview stage, Totton was calm, collected and very, very persuasive. She had her numbers off-pat, knew her market and her projected profits were enough to impress Lord Sugar's attack dogs (sorry, business associates), even if one of them was moved to express concern at her semi-detached personality. But for all her business acumen, isn't carrying out vanity procedures on insecure women a waste of her hard-won medical skills? Surely it's a little early in her career for Princess Leah to jump into bed with Darth Vader and move over to the dark side? "I don't see it as moving over to the dark side, I see it as medicalising the dark side and casting a light onto it," she replies smoothly. Oh, she's good, is Dr Leah. I've always said so. Haven't I always said so? Personally I would choose a cupcake over a chemical peel every time, but each to their own. Lord Sugar, I commend your judgment; improbable though it might seem to everyone else, you and I know the best woman won. The Apprentice Apprentice finalists Luisa Zissman (right) and Leah Totton PHOTO: PA