So chocolates and flowers are naff as presents for your true love on Valentine's Day. Well that's what I heard on the radio. Mind you, I think the presenter was reading from one of the national tabloids, which, as we've come to expect, print anything that might hike up their circulation.

According to the report, women now want Valentine's Day gifts of expensive jewellery, luxurious lingerie, romantic candlelit dinners for two and passion-filled weekends in Amsterdam, Paris or Rome, as expressions of their admirer's affection, rather than a risqu greetings card and a bunch of flowers, box of Terry's All Gold, a cheeseburger, chips and cola at McDonalds, or a day trip to Blackpool.

But before I'm put right by all those romantic ladies who might disagree with this view, I should mention that Tessa Cunningham, of Bella magazine, reports that a NOP survey indicates that 85 per cent of women surveyed would rather receive a card couched in loving terms and a posy of spring flowers picked from the garden.

More surprisingly, half the women questioned thought that expensive bouquets of flowers and overpriced mushy Valentine's cards were a waste of money, and would be happy to settle for a tender loving kiss, accompanied by a few whispered sweet nothings.

While only four per cent of women expected more, and thought that the amount their lover spent on Valentine's Day gifts was a good indication of what he thought of them, it seems women secretly do want to be extravagantly indulged on this particular day.

Exeter University psychologist Dr. Carole Burgoyne supports this view: "We may say we don't want anything on Valentine's Day, but what we really mean by that is we want something personal and spontaneous."

Of course, you'd expect her to say that, an academic she may be, but after all she is a woman.

Armed with this enlightenment about women's Valentine's Day desires, I went in search of something special, personal, spontaneous and within my budget, for my dear Old Dutch (a Cockney term of endearment), who had - unbeknown to me, or so she thought - bought me two giant Toblerone chocolate bars, which she has hidden in the fridge vegetable drawer until tomorrow.

A strange choice of gift, you might think, for someone of my years, but Jean has the notion that I have a passion for Toblerone, which probably stems from the fact that I often bought these pyramidal bars of chocolate from cross-Channel ferryboat duty free shops, supposedly for grandchildren, but somehow they were never posted, and I was eventually obliged to eat them.

Scouring York's speciality shops for a symbol of my undying love, I found all manner of suggested Valentine's Day gifts. There were teddy bears wearing vests embroidered with the rather trite legend, "I love you"; boxes containing what looked like a policewoman's hat and sexy black underwear. I wasn't curious enough to read the descriptive label, so I don't know what the gift of such clothing is supposed to convey to a loved one.

A little red devil caught my eye, emblazoned across his chest: "Horny Devil". A superfluous statement, I thought, for aren't all devils horned?

There were some saucy, nay salacious, greetings cards, which, I am ashamed to admit, I spent far too long reading.

Eventually, I found just the gift I was looking for, and among all those offensive cards, a tasteful one - which bore a simple message of love - to accompany my gift. I'm afraid I can't say what it is today, because Jean bribes Charlie the dog with a biscuit to get the Evening Press brought to her first, and I wouldn't want to spoil her Valentine's Day surprise.

So, whatever you guys can afford to buy your sweetheart, make sure it's just for her, is spontaneous and, above all, surprises her. It'll pay off - you'll see.