We can laugh at it now but our first Valentine’s Day was disastrous. There we were in the throes of love, and me being an old-fashioned romantic wanted to do things the right way. Except my experience was pretty useless at that stage – it was our first Valentine’s and being madly in love I, knowing nothing about such matters, thought the best thing to do would be to post the card and then arrive at her house in the afternoon to a warm embrace. Ah bliss.

With just over a month to go to our wedding I was feeling like the luckiest guy in the world. We may have been going out for just a little while but we were like two love birds. I adored her, still do. So when I called in to her home on my way to work that romantic day it was to find my beloved in a sulk worthy of a Shakespearean tragedy. Yes, you guessed it. Mr Postman had obviously called it a day and skipped Trish’s home with that precious Valentine’s card in his bag.

I knew Trish was not the patient type. If you’re late or fail to deliver on your promises then you’ll be brought to heel very quickly. And if I hadn’t known it before I was about to get a masterclass from the future Mrs Hickey.

I tried to be positive and suggest the postman was probably lurking around the estate. She wasn’t convinced. I suggested he may have mislaid the card or delivered it to another house in error. She didn’t fall for that either. I tried every excuse I could think of to get me off the hook, but there was one problem – it was Valentine’s Day and she had no card. 

Time ticked by agonisingly slowly while Trish’s sulk turned to barely contained anger and I sensed she was about to blow her top when the doorbell rang. It was my card, delivered around 3pm. Just in the nick of time. I never made the same mistake twice, so since then we never leave cards to chance and exchange them in person.

And that, folks, is one of the reasons I have a happy marriage. Now, where did I put that card again?