"MY FRIEND. My best friend forever," Michael Lowry declared as he shook John Bruton's hand on the steps of Government Buildings before going to face the press as plain Michael Lowry TD.

It was an extraordinary insight into the changed relationship between the two men. A public plea for sufferance.

At Leinster House the injured, the enemy and the damned are quickly cutaway. And the code has been enforced ruthlessly under the two most recent Taoisigh.

Mr Lowry was attempting to step outside all that, even as some of his own party colleagues and Fine Gael's partners in Government were reaching for the measuring tape and the plain pine boards.

The trials of the former Minister for Transport, Energy and Communications were only beginning. Stripped of his ministry, and with no immediate answers to offer as to why Ben Dunne had paid £208,000 towards the extension of his family home in 1993, he made a wretched figure.

From the beginning, Mr Lowry pleaded for time to clear his name. And Mr Bruton responded.

The man who might not be Taoiseach, or even leader of Fine Gael, without the unflinching and powerful support of the Tipperary TD made space.

On Friday, as news of the Lowry Dunne deal broke, the Taoiseach told reporters he had taken only a cursory look at the report and that the events predated Mr Lowry's appointment as Minister.

"Obviously, private business or personal matters affecting what do previously to their ministerial career are in a different category," he declared. And then: "If any comments or explanations might be necessary, I am quite sure he will be able to provide them."

By Saturday evening, when no satisfactory explanation had been provided, and with the Labour Party and Democratic Left becoming increasingly edgy, Mr Bruton took the only course open to him. And the two men parted on the steps of Government Buildings.

THE FALL of Mr Lowry has deeply damaged morale within Fine Gael and it could affect that party's vote getting ability in the coming general election. It could also destabilise the "new establishment" within the parliamentary party.

John Bruton took a scythe to his enemies when he survived the last leadership challenge nearly three years ago. With the exception of Michael Noonan, his detractors were excluded from Government.

But since then they have made small advances - Jim Higgins as Government Whip and now Alan Dukes as Minister. In addition, Alan Shatter has been appointed chairman of the important Oireachtas Foreign Affairs Committee.

For two years, John Bruton's stock has been rising in Fine Gael and his performance as Taoiseach has drawn general approval. He adopted a presidential style in the Dail and the controversies which damaged Michael Noonan, Ivan Yates and Nora Owen never touched him. He was a Teflon Taoiseach.

Now, for the first time, he is vulnerable. And he wobbled because of the political embrace of Michael Lowry.

Loyalty may be a commodity a Taoiseach cannot afford. But then a mutual interest may also have been involved. The tentacles of Ben Dunne's largesse reached further than Mr Lowry into Fine Gael.

The limited nature of the Taoiseach's response to a very serious matter was reflected in his suggestion that Ben Dunne's chequebook crusade could be left to the Revenue Commissioners for investigation. Maybe he. thought the media could be diverted indefinitely by the juicy story of a former Fianna Fail minister receiving £1.1 million from Ben Dunne in 1990-91.

It was not until his own backbenchers, Alan Shatter and Brendan McGahon, went into the Dail and demanded that the details of all payments made to politicians, public servants and media people be published by the Government that the penny dropped. Mr Bruton finally got a whiff of the public anger and dismay that was sweeping the country.

In wrapping up the Dail debate, he joined with Bertie Ahern in asking the Dunne family to make the Price Waterhouse report available. It wasn't much. But it covered his bum.

When the Fine Gael Parliamentary Party met on Wednesday morning the priority was still to protect Mr Lowry. A statement noted his resignation "with deep regret" and acknowledged him as "a loyal and good party colleague".

Dick Spring had revealed that the Labour Party had received £15,000 from Ben Dunne for Mary Robinson's presidential election campaign. And within an hour Mary Harney declared that the Progressive Democrats had not received a penny from the Dunnes. There was no knowing where it would end.

The last time private funding for political parties became a hot potato was during the beef tribunal hearings. Back then, Fianna Fail and Fine Gael agreed to reveal the extent of contributions from the beef industry in private. Reports later put the value at between £200,000 and £300,000.

The Fine Gael statement held she traditional line. All donations sought on a private basis and it was up to the donors whether they should be made public.

At no time had funds been accepted in return for promises of influence over public policy.

Then Bertie Ahern pulled the rug. Ben Dunne and Dunnes Stores had not contributed to Fianna Fail party funds since before the presidential election in 1990, he said. Three party members had received individual donations but these amounts were "insignificant."

Whether these "insignificant" sums would breach the £500 guideline in the proposed Electoral (Amendment) Bill was unclear. What was certain was that everybody was now out of step, except Fine Gael.

The full horror of the situation hit the party when RTE broadcast its 9 o'clock news on Wednesday night. The graphics told it all.

All other parties made full disclosures. Fine Gael was the only one with something to hide.

Hurried meetings and consultations led to a post midnight statement being issued by John Bruton. Fine Gael had received £180,000 in donations from Ben Dunne between 1987 and 1996. It was awful. But it was the best that could be done in desperate circumstances.

STEPPING on a banana kin is the first move in the collapse of a stout arty. Next, the legs fly into the air. And the punchline is when the victim hits the ground. John Bruton hit the ground - hard - in Brussels.

The Taoiseach gave up and came clean. Yes, he had been personally involved in asking Ben Dunne for political contributions. Yes, Michael Lowry had also been involved.

Yes, payments had not been spread evenly over nine years. They had come in three cheques, for £30,000, £50,000 and £100,000, the last sum in 1993.

Fianna Fail members were hugging themselves with delight. John Bruton looked like a man one the rack, with admissions of wrong doing being wrenched out of him. They couldn't imagine some of their own "hard men" behaving in such a way.

Instead of gaining brownie points for describing the traditional, political fund raising scene as it works, the Fine Gael leader looked like a burglar when the alarm goes off.

Rather than distancing itself from suspected sleaze, the party was fully engaged in denying unstated improprieties. Into this maelstrom of confusion, the Progressive Democrats dropped their demand for a full scale judicial inquiry into the Lowry affair and into reports of unorthodox payments to politicians, public servants and media people.

Fianna Fail was assessing the dangers and considering the position. As reports of a lack of hard evidence in relation to the £1.1 million payments began to leak out, Fianna Fail TDs began to walk with a lighter step.

After seven days of dread and foreboding, the skies were clearing. John Bruton had displayed desperately poor judgment. And Fine Gael was still on the rack.

If their luck holds, it might end like the Cheshire Cat. A slowly fading grin may be the only thing to connect a former Fianna Fail Minister with payments of £1.1 million.