Sitting down for a chat with Tarja Turunen isn't far removed from the experience of meeting up with an old flame you've lost touch with. You see the person you always knew, but wonder where life has taken them in the time since you last met. The last time Tarja's name was on the lips of metal fans, she was in a very different place. The details of her breakup with Nightwish in 2005- plastered on the web for the world to see- was a gory affair that left the metal world sat in silence with embarassment at just how calamitously one of Finland's biggest musical exports had melted down. The news that exploded on the internet on October 22, 2005 was nothing like a simply announcement that Nightwish were saying goodbye to their singer of nine years and thanking her for her time in the band. It was a flesh-cleaving assault on her character, her motivations- even her husband and manager, Marcelo Cabuli. The excruciating detail was there for all the world to read: she's a diva, she's in it for the money, she's changed and- most importantly- her services are no longer required. Compounding said clusterfuck, Nightwish's last-ever performance in Helsinki- which had taken place the night before- was recorded for what would become the band's aptly titled "End of An Era" DVD which, despite it's weight as a document of one of the band's biggest ever performances, is of interest because everyone on the stage, except for Tarja, knew what was going to happen next.

"I've seen it. It's pretty tough," she says, tucking into a Pad Thai in a pub a stone's throw from Hammer's London offices. In the midday lunch rush, she's entered unnoticed and unrecognised among the office workers let out of their pen for an hour, "I watched it in my living room, and had all kinds of emotion, good and bad. Overall I can still see that it was a fantastic show, and a magic experience."

As Tarja describes it, it's what happened next that still causes her pain, and she looks stricken when asked to recall the experience. Whatever you believe about the personality attacks foisted on her, she's hardly impervious to the feeling of rejection she experienced that night.

"I walked into the dressing room. It was so odd. We came off the stage, and I looked at everyone, and they looked at me, and I was like "How was the show? Wasn't it fantastic?" And everyone just kept looking at me. And I was like "Aren't you going out now? To celebrate?" And they were like "No, actually, no." And they handed me a letter and said "Please read this tomorrow and don't look at it tonight." I kept my promise. Damn that I didn't open it straight away!"

"I read it and said "f**k, why didn't I just open it?" It was so odd. Nobody was talking, nobody was... this was right after the show. And then, after, everyone left. It was really wierd." She pauses there, thinking about the acute awkwardness of the scene, clearly still trying to make sense of it all. "It was so weird! And behind the door, immediately there was this huge line of people who were hugging me and thanking me, and the band's family was there and I had this letter in my hand the whole time. And the next morning I woke up and it was the first thing I read."

How long was it before you realised that the letter was on the internet?

"It already was."

Ouch. She agrees that, whatever came between her and the rest of Nightwish, after recording and touring with them for nine years, the way that she was dismissed might have been handled a little more delicately, to her face.

"I can think of a few other ways they might have done it," she says, grinning and perhaps vastly understanding the case, "But that was two years ago. I've turned the page."

It's clear she'd rather talk about how she picked up the pieces. Still, some vital questions remain, like, has she been in touch with any of the members of Nightwish in the last two years?

"I think that there would be a really good time for us now to get in contact out of interest, for their side or for mine," she says, "We have each other's numbers but none of us is doing it. It's very sad. I don't see... for me it's hard to think about having a chat with the guys. I was very disappointed. It was so painful the whole process that it was very hard. But it's like my mother always said to me, "That which doesn't kill you...""

She'll cringe as she relates how, immediately afterwards, the Finnish press were especially curious about what happened, and her plans to remain in Finland changed when she realised everyone from her immediate family to distant relatives and even old schoolteachers with whom she had minimal history were being plied for information on what had happened. She escaped to her husband's home in Buenos Aires, leaving her collapsing world behind her, but it wasn't long before she'd resolved to confront her demons and strike out on her own, releasing a solo Christmas album, "Henkays Ikuisuudesta" (meaning Breath from Heaven) in November 2006 and playing a string of solo dates.

"To be honest, it took some time to understand what happened, and I needed time on my own," she says, "I also knew that I had to be brave, to have the courage to face the people and see what was going to happen there. I needed to go on stage and do a concert and a tour already in November and December, to go through it very fast, because I knew it would be difficult. But I also needed to take time to think about this. It was such a big thing because I think it was done so badly."

And it wasn't long before she began to think about the kind of album she really wanted to make- something bold, grandiose, and not strictly classical, as her musical training would suggest.

"I can't just jump from the rock stage to classical," she says, "For nine years, Nightwish was a part of me, and it would be strange to leave that part behind."

The result is this year's "My Winter Storm"- first single: "I Walk Alone", which was masterminded in LA by Faith No More producer Daniel Presley, who understood Tarja's love of big soundtracks and was able to translate her ideas into an album that- in spite of predictions- isn't without its distinct metal sensibility. As Tarja confesses, she already had the ideas in her head for two years. Which begs the question, was she already thinking about her solo career while she was in Nightwish?

"It was only a thinking process," she fires back, "I wanted to do something very rich, image-wise because I love some soundtracks from very big movies. I was thinking perhaps it should come out sometime after the next album, the next tour. I was really in the early process about it without having any people involved or any plans made. I was just thinking to myself, "It might be something to do..."

"Many bands have tried to put heavier guitar sounds and an orchestra in one package, but they take up so much space and there's always the limit of what you can make louder than the other. Heavier riffs? Or more orchestra sounds? That was the thing I wanted to achieve."

Still, there's the issue of Nightwish releasing their much-publicised "Dark Passion Play" just a month before Tarja's own album. It's an odd coincidence, but something Tarja chalks up to the amount of time it takes to make an album.

"It's like "Whoops, what happened?"" she says, laughing, "I know that there will be comparisons, and people will talk about it in that way, but I can't imagine there's going to be any competition between us. That's really, really childish. That would be insane."

Have you heard their new singer, Anette Olzon?

"Jeez!" she screams, bursting with laughter, pounding the table, drawing bemused stares from everyone around her, "No! I'm not the one to answer that! Of course I have an opinion. Who wouldn't? I'm not the one to answer it! I'm the last one!"