Mark Hamilton and Juliette

The first thing I noticed about her was her bum! Then her gorgeous, very brown eyes and her dark hair

Radio One's Sunday Surgery doctor Mark Hamilton is married to Juliette. They are both 36 and have two children, Joe (8) and two-year-old Alice. Mark, who lives in Manchester but is originally from Bangor, will be in Belfast on March 2 to take part in the Fate Entertainment Awards at Belfast's Waterfront Hall.

He says: Juliette was working in a wine bar when I was still at Manchester University and she had just left. I went in there a lot during my final year and just fancied her and asked her out. She was living with her boyfriend at the time, so I had to wait around for a bit, without being a stalker, until she moved out. I told her if she ever got bored of him I was there. My friend knew her friend as well, so we did meet socially, but nothing more than that.

The first thing I noticed about her was her bum! Then her gorgeous, very brown eyes and her dark hair. I used to call her 'squaw', because she was a sort of a Hiawatha type. Not very politically correct, I suppose. I don't think she had a name for me.

On our first date, we went out with those two friends to a bar and a club afterwards. We went together for about a year and got engaged for a year, then married. It didn't take long. It seems we were meant to be together, and we have been married 10 years now.

There were no horrors meeting the parents. We all get on very well. I think her dad was quite pleased because I was a doctor. I went to the extent of asking his permission to marry his daughter. They were quite elderly parents and quite traditional, but in a nice way.

I would say we are a romantic couple and like to celebrate Valentine's Day. We usually have a meal and maybe watch a film. We probably won't be going out this year, because I haven't arranged a baby-sitter - it's harder to get one during the week. If we have to stay in we try and make it nice and cosy.

I like to surprise her with something thoughtful that she needs or would like. I remember one year I put down cobblestones and flagstones in the backyard and made it look really good, and she cried. It was the effort that went into it. Last year, it was two photo frames with a picture of her with each of the kids. She really appreciated that.

We have lots in common that we share and enjoy, and lots of differences. We like doing our own thing, which keeps the spark alive. We have a similar sense of humour and views on life in general.

The kids can be a bit of a passion- killer at times. We try our best, but they do tend to take priority. Joe isn't as bad now, but Alice is very jealous if we have a hug and has to get involved as well. Even the cats can be demanding. We had a hug the other day and one of them decided they wanted one too.

It's quite easy to make up after a tiff. We don't like to go for periods without speaking or being at odds with each other. We are too busy to have that lingering.

Marie Foy

Nikki McQuillan and husband Michael

Michael was the only man to treat me and pay for everything. He was the perfect gentleman

Nikki McQuillan (41) is co-director with husband Michael (43) of The Streat cafe chain and franchising business. They live in Holywood and have three children.

She says: Are we romantic? Well, yes, although we've been married - happily married - for 16 years and we've three children (Katy, Stephen and Tony). We don't wait for Valentine's day to be romantic, if you know what I mean. We try to get out by ourselves every two weeks or so. We live in Holywood, so we'll go for a walk by the beach, then come back and go out for a bite to eat. Even though Mike and I work together in the business, we still like to steal time together.

We first met at the Tara Hotel in Kensington in 1985, and I always say you have to go to London to find a good Irishman. He was an Ulster Polytechnic placement student in the hospitality business, and I was on placement from Huddersfield Polytechnic. We started out with a competitive edge, but soon became very good friends.

Other people drifted in and out, but we remained for the full 48 weeks, and then romance blossomed. I was working in reception and Michael was duty manager in this massive 1,500 bed hotel. One of the guests was going back to America and had free tickets to Brighton, which he offered us. I said: 'Do you want to go to Brighton for a laugh?', meaning just as friends.

It was the first of October and very sunny, one of those beautiful autumn days - I remember we bought a bottle of wine and sat on the beach getting tiddly. One thing led to another, and he asked me to go for a meal. I was 20, he was 22, and we went to a little fish restaurant in one of the streets off the front. I always say Michael was the only man to treat me and pay for everything. He was the perfect gentleman, and that was me hooked.

We graduated, then worked for different companies and were married on June 1, 1990, at St Cedmas', Larne, with a reception at the country house hotel in Kells, Ballymena. I got up and said: 'You only have one or two really good friends in life, and today I married my best friend'. It's making me quite emotional just thinking about it.

We always dreamed of starting our own business. I was lecturing at the time, the babies were arriving, and in 1998 Michael was offered a bigger job in England by his company. We didn't want to go, so we started the business. The first Streat cafe opened in January 1999.

I took a career break, then joined when the company could afford me. We never had any help financially and put our house on the line. What has kept us strong in difficult times is our friendship. Granny used to say, " When the money runs out, loves flies out the window", but it's not true for us.

On Valentine's Day, Mike always sends me flowers - not roses, but pink lilies, which I love. We always send each other cards, but don't put any messages in the papers. It's hard to book a restaurant on the day, but we might cook for each other. Michael is a creative cook, and does great things with salmon. Of course, we sometimes argue and have rows, but never go to bed on an argument. We never stop speaking and aren't uncivil to each other, and making up is fun.

How do we cope with being a 24/7 couple? By being professional at work, but sometimes he'll squeeze my hand and say "Come on, let's go for a cup of coffee". And he gives me a peck on the cheek if he's not going to see me for the rest of the day.

We also have a common language, a code word we drop into the conversation which means 'Let's stop talking about work'. The word is 'Zoom'. But it is hard not to focus on work when it's your dream and passion. We're excited about our grant from Invest Northern Ireland, which will allow us to export the Streats cafe formula to Dublin and beyond.

We own four cafes and there are 16 franchises, around six of which are run by husband and wife teams. I like to think it's our legacy, that we've shown it can work.

Jane Hardy

Singer Candy Devine and DJ Donald McLeod

I've got one of his poems framed in the house. It starts, 'If only the gift of verse was mine, I'd eulogise my Valentine', and I think we'll stop there

Candy Devine, a singer and Downtown DJ is married to Donald McLeod. They live in Belfast. She says:

I suppose Donald and I do celebrate Valentine's Day. This year I am working so we'll probably be going to the golf club for a quiet meal for two. We both like fish, and I love crustaceans, so that's what we'll be having with a good bottle of el vino plonko.

How long have we been married? I've got to work it out - my husband says we were married at the age of 13 - but it's 38 years. A showbiz marriage that's lasted 38 years can't be bad.

We met when my husband was booking performers into Belfast for the Talk of the Town club, and I was brought over to sing at it. Then I came over to compere and sing at Tito's, a happening club at the time, and that was the start of the romance.

Donald asked me if I would like to go out one Friday night after the show. It was Good Friday, the prelude to Easter, and I was wearing a gold lame coat for the occasion. He took me to see the Circuit of Ireland and we stood on a corner and watched cars whizzing by, with me in my gold coat. That should have been my cue to leave, but I hung on in there, girl.

I was based in Manchester at the time, but Donald was very persistent. He wrote every day and telephoned every day, just romantic stuff. He wrote poetry, too, and anyone who knows him will say 'What?' I've got one of his poems framed in the house - it starts, 'If only the gift of verse was mine, I'd eulogise my Valentine', and I think we'll stop there.

We still exchange cards on Valentine's Day, and last year Donald bought two cards, one of them from me to him. All I had to do was sign it - I think I married him for his sense of humour.

We have four children, one in Australia, where he's a celebrity chef, one in France, one in London and one in Comber. I inherited three children from Donald's first marriage when I married him, but we always found time to be a family, as well as time to be by ourselves.

If somebody tells me they've never had a row with their husband, I suspect a bad marriage. One day we'd had a real barney and I walked into the kitchen to find a little box on the breakfast bar. It was a gold ingot pendant - our daughter said: 'Why has Daddy given you a present?' I said: 'It's his way of saying 'sorry'.' Then Donald came in and said: 'No, it's for Valentine's Day'.' I'd completely forgotten. Donald's not a flower-giver - he's too practical and would probably give me a plant. He wouldn't give me chocolates, though - I'm overweight enough as it is.

It is important to keep the romance alive. My mother was 100 just before Christmas, and always after a row, my father would go and whisper something in her ear, and it was over. That was their thing, and all couples find their own way of coming together. I'm not good at saying sorry - he says it's because I am perfect, but I detect sarcasm.

The music which gets me in the mood at the end of the day is jazz, blues, and soul, George Benson, Marvin Gaye, that sort of thing. I love jazz guitar, and always say I should have married a jazz guitarist.

Jane Hardy

Singer Brian Houston and wife Pauline

We have shared so many experiences and I think we're a stronger couple because of it all

Singer Brian Houston ("I'm 29. Why don't you believe me?") lives in Belfast with his wife Pauline and children Stephanie (18) and Danny (17). He says:

I would consider myself a very romantic person and love doing special things for my wife, Pauline. Before she worked with me, I used to send flowers to her work as a public gesture of my love - but now that we work together, that doesn't have quite the same impact.

For her birthday one year I got the stone in her engagement ring reset, because it had come out. I also bought her a £500 necklace. I've organised some surprise weekends away - and I booked a holiday in Spain which she didn't find out about until the day of her birthday.

Sadly, however, today I am in England for a gig - I'm opening act for John Power - and won't be back home until tomorrow.

My wife and I actually met when she was going out with my elder brother. Some time later, we happened to be in the same class at Lisnasharragh High School in east Belfast and started going out when we were 15. Pauline's eyes and smile first attracted me to her. Her eyes are a really unique colour - hazel with an amazing greenish grey tone.

It was around this time that I was getting more involved in music and she worked with me. From the very early days, she looked after the administration of the first band I was in.

I left school when I was 16 and started working right away as a carpenter through an apprenticeship at Harland and Wolff shipyard. Pauline stayed on at school and, after her A levels, went to work at a bookkeepers.

We had actually split up before eventually getting married. I went off to France and she went to Canada, but six weeks apart were enough to make me realise I couldn't live without her. When she got off the plane from Canada, I was at the airport and asked her to marry me. She didn't say yes immediately - she told me she'd think about it! It took her about six weeks to say yes.

We were very young when we married - Pauline was 20 and I was 21. As well as that, we bought a house right away and had kids. For a long time, people would come to the door and say to either of us, 'Is your mummy in?', because we looked so young.

Having children just felt like the right thing to do. We didn't have a career plan or a life plan. We were in love, so we got married and then wanted to have a baby. Our two children are 18 and 17 now.

When I was in my first band, Mighty Fall, and we were getting more successful, my wife said that we needed to take the journey together and share the experiences 100%.

Pauline runs the office now and goes to a lot of my concerts. Sometimes when I'm touring I go alone, but we try to go together as much as we can.

Pauline being diagnosed with breast cancer just over two years ago was the biggest shock of our lives, but it was a defining moment for us. Because we'd been together from such a young age, and because you grow and change and have new experiences in life, you do genuinely wonder if you did the right thing. But the illness cleared that up for me. I knew that Pauline was the only person I wanted to be with my whole life.

It was, romantically speaking, one of the best things that ever happened to us. It really confirmed to her and to me how much we loved each other.

When the diagnosis was given to us, I fainted. Pauline was stunned, but coped with it better than I did. She had to have surgery, chemotherapy and radiotherapy. Certainly, it's the sort of thing that doesn't go away - the truth is that for up to five years after the illness you still have to have all the tests done, and we have a few years to go before we reach the five year stage. But when we do hit that point, we'll begin to feel it is behind us.

Pauline and I decided to fight the illness by changing our diet in an effort to boost the immune system. We cut out tea and coffee, dairy products and, for a long time, meat. We changed to mostly organic food and made sure we ate lots of fruit and vegetables. This was our way of coping, to try to be healthy and positive.

Our Christian faith and our church were key to us getting through it. At no stage did we believe it would lead to death, but we believed it happened to teach us something. People in our church were a fantastic support and we couldn't have coped without them.

We have achieved a lot, but our greatest successes are that we are here together throughout all that's happened, we have a good relationship with our kids and we're close as a family.

Because we took the journey together the struggle has been ours together and we've survived a lot. We have shared so many experiences, good times and bad times, and I think we're a stronger couple because of it all.

Judith Cole

Ali Fitzbibbon and Glenn Patterson

We take time to look at each other, light candles, play nice music - that's what we'd do on Valentine's day ... we're very romantic people

Ali Fitzgibbon (34) director of children's arts organisation Young At Art, is married to Belfast novelist Glenn Patterson (45). She says:

We first met in a bar in October 1993. I was 21 and working in a theatre in Cork, and the Siolbroin, which used to be a gay bar, was right next door. I went in for a drink after work, and he was sitting at the bar with a friend of mine, a tutor at University College, Cork. Glenn had just begun six months as writer-in- residence there. We started talking and within a couple of hours, the friend peeled off, plastered, and we stayed on. We just wanted to go on talking.

It wasn't love at first sight, although Glenn is sort of my type. I tend to go for very tall, thin men, but he's fair-haired and I usually go for swarthier types. We got to the end of the night, 11.30pm, and we left. I was still living with my parents, who were away, and basically, I took him home, saying 'I have a bottle of wine'. What did we talk about? Music, places we had been, Belfast, family in Northern Ireland and his writing as I didn't know his work. It wasn't really a big romance that night, but we went on talking until four or five in the morning.

The next day, Glenn made up a complete fiction about meeting people for drinks in the Long Valley, a pub I'd mentioned as somewhere I frequented. And when we went there that night, it was obvious we were meeting each other. We held hands, and that was it.

It did get very turbulent for a while. Glenn was older, from Belfast, and he was still in a relationship in Manchester. It was an uncomfortable Christmas - I had arguments about the relationship with my father - but by the New Year, we knew we'd live together.

We kept it secret for six weeks, then went public the night of Roddy Doyle's reading at the University English Society. As Roddy had just won the Booker, the event ballooned and there were 300-400 people there. We walked in when it was full, and a row of heads turned round, it was like that final scene from An Officer And A Gentleman.

The turning point was shortly afterwards, early in 1994. We moved to Belfast, as Glenn said he had a feeling something would happen, and the ceasefires came shortly after that. Glenn says I'd told him I wanted to get married and have children (we have two, Jessica, who's five, and Miranda, who's one) but I don't remember being so direct.

I said it was all or nothing, and he said that was fine. The phrase all or nothing became our mantra. We thought if one of us decided to have an affair, that would be it. If we meant as much to each other as we thought, it had to be an absolute.

Of course, we were in the throes of love and passion then. Glenn found the Small Faces song, All or Nothing, in his music collection, and we had it played at our wedding in May 1995. We got married in Cork registry office, and had the wedding party in my parents' house. I published the banns and put a notice in the Cork Advertiser saying a spinster of the parish of marriagable age was taking him ... it was funny.

We celebrate Valentine's Day less than we used to, but we are generally very romantic people.

We say we love each other multiple times a day. We take time to look at each other, light candles, play nice music - that's what we'd do on Valentine's day, whereas we used to go out for a meal.

Now it's become commercial and cutesy, so we might cook for each other while sampling a big bottle of sparkling wine. Having children puts a big strain on a relationship, and the biggest demonstration of love now is saying, 'No, you stay in bed and I'll get up with the girls'.

You can't run around the house doing all kinds of things as the children will get up, but you can say, 'You look lovely'.

Glenn buys me flowers, and I buy him flowers. And we both have a fondness for really good Green & Black's chocolate, none of that silly, heart-shaped stuff.

Jane Hardy

The Belfast Children's Festival ( www.belfastchildrensfestival.com ), with the theme Love and Friendship, runs from May 25 to June 3

Comedian John Linehan and wife Brenda

It's a love/hate relationship; she loves me and I hate her. Does she appreciate my sense of humour? She hasn't got one

Colourful comedian John Linehan (55), aka May McFettridge, will have been married to his wife Brenda (53) for 32 years this July. They live in Belfast have two daughters, Donna (29) and Kerry (24), and one grandson, eight-year-old Johnny. John says:

When we first met, Brenda was a wee schoolgirl and I was an apprentice motor mechanic. I used to see her at the bus stop on the Antrim Road and we used to go to a cafeteria. She took one look at me and fell head over heels ... No, she hated me! No she didn't - she just didn't like me.

She didn't fancy me, but liked me as a friend. She fancied my mates and went out with them before she would go with me. I talked her around in the end. She was at a party one time and I told her I was going to marry her. She ran out saying she didn't want to talk to me again. I said, 'I will, you know'. I must have been too serious too soon, but I knew what I wanted.

What first caught my eye? It was the innocence of it all. She was only 16 or 17 and I was 14 (laughs) - no, I was 18. I was married at 23 or something, we married in 1975.

How are we celebrating Valentine's Day? We are in Lanzarote overlooking the Atlantic trying to chill out for a couple of weeks after the pantos. We'll have a nice meal for two and a nice bottle of wine. I'm very romantic. I always get flowers. This year it'll be roses, I'll get a couple of dead ones (chuckle).

People who say marriage is a bed of roses are lying, but we're still together, as happy as Larry ... seven Larry's. It's a love/hate relationship; she loves me and I hate her.

Does she appreciate my sense of humour? She hasn't got one. We're the good cop/bad cop couple. Pet names? I call her 'hey you' and she calls me 'oi' as in 'oi, you're dinner's ready'. She has pet names for me, all right. You can't possibly print them.

The recipe for a long and happy marriage is don't fight and listen to each other. I'm a very lucky man!

Marie Foy