'I've never had that tingling-from-head-to-toe, can't-take-my eyes-off-a-man feeling that I've heard friends describe,' says Christine Corbett

Amid the dying embers of her marriage, Christine Corbett had a difficult confession to make to her husband of 21 years. Not only was she not in love with him then, but she had never been in love with him — not even in the early days of their relationship.

It was a painful admission, and not just because of the hurt she risked causing him. For Christine, it was particularly poignant because she was admitting to herself that she'd reached middle age without ever having fallen in love.

On Valentine's Day, when the shops are filled with roses, heart-shaped chocolates and cards carrying sentimental expressions of love, it's easy to assume that giving your heart to someone else is a natural part of life.

It might happen when you're a teenager, or perhaps later, in your 20s or 30s — but at some point, you'll meet that special person who will dominate your thoughts and make your heart race whenever you think of them.

So spare a thought for the women who have never been in love — an affliction thought to affect around one in five females, according to one survey. Women like 48-year-old Christine.

'I've never had that tingling-from-head-to-toe, can't-take-my eyes-off-a-man feeling that I've heard friends describe,' says Christine. 'I can't help but feel envious when I see couples looking at each other in a way that makes it obvious they're in love. I want that, too.'

Even six years — and plenty of male attention — on from her separation, Christine says she's still never experienced that emotional high of falling head over heels for someone.

Christine, from Glasgow, who works in the film industry, had begun dating her husband when she was just 20. For her, the relationship was nothing more than a fun distraction with a handsome man, especially as she felt he wasn't attentive and caring enough. She certainly wasn't in love.

But when, after 18 months, she accidentally fell pregnant, Christine felt duty-bound to marry her boyfriend and create a stable home for their unborn child.

Then, with the wedding booked and the invitations sent out, Christine miscarried. She really wanted to back out of the wedding, but she didn't want to cancel and let her fiancé and everyone else down.

Christine, from Glasgow, who works in the film industry, had begun dating her husband when she was just 20 (pictured on their wedding day)

Mourning the loss of her baby, Christine yearned to have another, and she and her husband went on to have three sons. But with each new arrival and passing year, Christine says she felt increasingly trapped.

'We had this beautiful five-bedroom home with huge bay windows, on the coast,' recalls Christine. 'But I'd wake up most mornings beside my husband with silent tears running down my cheeks.

'I'd go downstairs, make myself a cup of tea and wonder how on earth I'd ended up wedded to a man I didn't love.

'I never felt he cared about me and, although I cared about him enough to ensure he had food to eat and clothes to wear, my feelings never ran deeper than that.'

But back then, Christine felt it was better to endure a loveless marriage than to put their children, who are now aged between 15 and 21, through the misery of having a broken home.

'I'd tell myself: 'I've got my sons, my good health and a close relationship with my mum, and that will have to be enough for me.' '

It took the death of a close friend six years ago to make her re-evaluate her situation. She decided that life was too short to carry on making do — and told her husband she wanted a divorce.

She started dating again three years ago, but Cupid still hasn't struck.

Christine felt it was better to endure a loveless marriage than to put their children, who are now aged between 15 and 21, through the misery of having a broken home

Like Christine, Angelique Saint-Martin, who lives in Essex, never dreamed she'd reach middle age without ever having lost her heart to anyone.

Now aged 52, Angelique has dated a number of men — one, albeit half-heartedly, for several years — but she has yet to experience the butterflies-in-her-stomach euphoria of being with someone she would choose above all others.

'I used to dream of walking down the aisle,' she says. 'I'm a personable and attractive woman who takes good care of myself, so I never doubted that it would happen.

'But I've given up on all that now. Some of my friends and cousins are now married for a second time, and I've sat in churches at so many weddings thinking: 'Why is it never my turn?' I feel like the old maid left on the shelf.'

For Angelique, like so many singletons, the absence of red roses and cards on Valentine's Day comes as a stark and sad reminder that she is no one's sweetheart. However, she acknowledges that having grown up with her single mother — her father left when she was six years old — she's always been aware that men are not essential to a woman's survival.

Angelique Saint-Martin, who lives in Essex, never dreamed she'd reach middle age without ever having lost her heart to anyone

'I'm a realist, not someone who goes around wearing rose-tinted spectacles, so I was never going to fall in love easily,' says Angelique.

'Men have always been attracted to me, but friends have told me that I'm not flirtatious enough around them.

'But I wouldn't want to give any man the wrong idea if I'm not certain about taking things further. It would seem dishonest.'

Angelique went on dates with a handful of men while in her late teens and 20s, seeing one, whom she met through mutual friends, for several months.

He was a handsome, half-Spanish businessman and, while they enjoyed meals out and trips to the cinema, there was no 'spark' between them.

Throughout most of her 30s, Angelique was committed to her career. Back then, she was working in foreign exchange in the City of London, and she remained resolutely single.

Having 'never had the urge' to become a mum, she felt none of the usual pressures to settle down that many women, with a ticking biological clock, experience.

However, aged 38 and having moved into a corporate sales role, Angelique was asked out by a business contact, a manager in a telecoms firm. He was going through a divorce and had two children, then aged 13 and seven.

'It certainly wasn't love at first sight, but he was a nice man and I hoped that, over time, he might grow on me and become 'the one',' says Angelique.

'But we were still getting to know each other when, very sadly, his ex-wife died from an embolism, meaning he was suddenly solely responsible for their two children.'

While Angelique would have been willing to have his children come to stay with them every other weekend, she was not prepared to be a full-time stepmother.

Angelique went on dates with a handful of men while in her late teens and 20s

As a result, while they continued to see one another sporadically for a further eight years, Angelique says she never fell in love with him and the relationship, such as it was, fizzled out in 2003.

Angelique has been on two separate dates since, but she had no desire to see either man again.

'A lot of men my age look older and just don't appeal to me,' she says. 'I have met nice-looking, older men, who have taken good care of themselves, but they are few and far between and tend to be looking for younger women.

'I don't want a man in his 20s or 30s, either, because we wouldn't have anything in common.

'But I always try to ensure I look as good as I can — partly, I suppose, because there's a little bit of me still hoping to meet Mr Right.' Although now largely resigned to never knowing the joys of true love, Angelique is painfully aware of the ways in which she is missing out. Holidays are largely off the agenda, she says, as she'd rather not go than travel alone.

And when her friend, with whom she attends weekly Latin and Tango dance nights, speaks fondly of her husband of 30 years, Angelique can't help but feel envious of their close bond.

Still, she comforts herself with the knowledge that the course of true love doesn't always run smooth.

'Statistically, relationships don't last,' says Angelique. 'One year, I went to four friends' weddings — and two of them are now divorced.

'Eventually, the honeymoon period ends, and even those who fall in love fall back out of it.'

YELLOW ROSES, NOT RED? HIS LOVE'S FADING Giving flowers on Valentine's Day could be a minefield as each flower has its meaning — though perhaps not the one you intended. Yellow roses signify a lessening of love, pink larkspur means 'fickleness', lavender is associated with distrust and marigolds spell despair or jealousy. The secret language of flowers dates from Victorian times, when men and women would have used it to convey sentiments that they felt too inhibited to express in words. Now, English Heritage wants to revive the tradition for Valentine's Day — but warns that you could risk offending your beloved if you send the wrong blooms. While people have always associated red roses with love and romance, a gift of striped carnations could spell heartbreak as it means 'refusal' in the secret code, says English Heritage. Using the language of flowers, a person who really wants to signal love could go for orchids, which mean beauty, white camellias, which represent 'perfect beauty', or pansies, which say 'you occupy my thoughts'. After an argument, the 'reconciliation' message of hazel could be appropriate. Hydrangeas signified 'frigidity', buttercups meant riches and daisies are for innocence. Chrysanthemums mean friendship — but a single spider chrysanth says: 'Can we elope now?' Christopher Weddell, senior gardens adviser at English Heritage, said: 'Today, the deeper and more complex language of flowers is all but lost. We want to help keep this tradition alive.' Gardeners will be on hand at five English Heritage gardens today, on Valentine's Day, to help visitors identify romantic blooms. Advertisement

Michelle Lewis, 44, is someone else who is sad to admit that she has no idea how it feels to fall in love — even though she was once engaged.

In fact, having come so close in her late 20s to sharing the rest of her life with a man she didn't love has made Michelle, a lettings operations manager from Cardiff, extra cautious about settling for anything less than 'the real thing'.

'When I was 26, I just sort of fell into a relationship with a colleague, because he was a nice man who pursued me and I'd previously dated a couple of men who had been unfaithful,' she says.

'We drifted along for a couple of years and then he proposed. But instead of feeling happy when we got engaged, I remember crying alone in my bedroom.

'I suppose I went along with it because I thought to myself: 'Maybe I'm being stupid waiting for someone who makes my heart race.'

'I'd always wanted to fall in love, get married and have children, so I tried to ignore the fact that the 'love' part just wasn't there.'

Michelle Lewis, 44, is someone else who is sad to admit that she has no idea how it feels to fall in love — even though she was once engaged

The engagement limped on for two years, but, lacking as it was in passion — both inside and outside the bedroom — by mutual agreement they decided to call it off. Michelle was then 30.

During the 14 years since, Michelle's longest relationship has lasted just four months. She liked him, but he wasn't ready for a serious relationship, so they never got to the 'love' stage. There was another man she met online and dated for a month, but he ended up going back to his ex-girlfriend. Others never made it beyond a first date.

So are women like Angelique and Michelle simply too picky?

Michelle admits: 'Friends tell me I'm too fussy, but it's not that I want men to look a certain way or have a particular job — it's just that, if there's no chemistry, then it can't work.

'I want to feel excited when I'm going on a date and be sad when I have to leave him. But I've never been with a man who has made me feel that way, and I'm not willing to just say: 'Oh, he'll do.' The man I settle down with needs to be my soulmate.'

She is also facing up to the fact that, at 44, she is unlikely ever to realise her dreams of becoming a mother

While she's waiting for her Mr Right to materialise, Michelle feels like 'the Bridget Jones character' at every social event, with family and friends always asking her if she's met anyone yet.

She is also facing up to the fact that, at 44, she is unlikely ever to realise her dreams of becoming a mother.

Each year, Valentine's Day acts as a poignant reminder that she's still on her own.

'I try not to let it drag me down, as I still believe that there's someone out there for everyone,' she says valiantly.

While Angelique and Michelle are determined to hold on for the real thing, Christine, whose divorce is still to be finalised, is more pragmatic.

'I don't want to settle down again unless I have real chemistry with a man,' she says. 'But, having said that, I don't want a lonely old age — so maybe, if I haven't found love by the time I'm 65, I'll make do with companionship.'

Here's hoping Cupid strikes before then.