How Celia Larkin followed in the footsteps of Princess Di

Personally, I'm sad to see Bertie and Celia's relationship over. Not just from a social diarist angle - she lent a breath of fresh air to the relentlessly contrived machinations of our Taoiseach - but because what seemed like a great love affair has turned out to be just another cliched anticlimax in a world less romantic. Neither for better, nor for worse.

Summer, two years ago, at the Berkeley Court Hotel for VIP magazine's anniversary party, Bertie, Celia and I were alone in the lift for a few moments. She looked radiant in her summery dress, and ordinary, fussing about him and fixing his tie in the charged confined space. He seemed vaguely self-conscious, with an expression that seemed to say, "Women, wotchagonnado?" and yet you could sense their intimacy.

Once they arrived, he didn't stay long, just long enough for the photographers to capture Celia's moment. As she was style columnist for the magazine, he was her top accessory and, after all, this was her night. But it was also his night - at least, it should have been. It was voting day on the first Nice Treaty Referendum that turned out to be such a major embarrassment for Bertie in Europe's eyes. A lesson in fallibility and a foolish display of an arrogance usually more carefully disguised.

But those were the gentler days when Bertie was prepared to stand by his woman. They were in love then, and, although Bertie was determinedly single, that love was still mutually advantageous. But with Bertie's re-election a year later came a new confidence, a deeper sense of invincibiliy and a quieter belligerence on the subject of marriage to his loyal partner of 15 years.

In Celia's mind, his glorious re-election in summer 2002 should have marked a time of consolidation of their relationship. So sure was she of this that in April she dared to break what he thought was their understanding by uttering the "M" word in public. "I think in the future, way down the line, we will probably marry," she told a journalist.

Privately, Bertie - who was already on record saying remarriage was "not a possibility" (and what better way to ensure this than not being divorced?) - was shocked by her comments, and the relationship came under severe pressure. But what did he expect?

By July, the relationship was reported to be on the rocks. A Fianna Fail source contacted the Sunday Independent claiming the romance was finished, and Bertie was forced to issue a denial of sorts.

He told the Sunday Independent that he and Celia had changed their social habits since the General Election. "This is not just for personal reasons," he said. "We have more or less stopped going to our local haunts together recently." Later, in a bid to explain the obvious cooling, he (now famously) said their relationship had "changed".

Yet she hung in there. They appeared side by side two weeks later at the Galway Races. Then he was spotted in Kerry with a blonde who may or may not have been Celia. He stated that, contrary to reports, he and Celia were not buying a house in Kerry together.

The relationship had certainly changed since the days when he made it clear that if Fianna Fail wanted him as leader, it would have to accept Celia as his partner. Regardless of opposition from the public, the church and even his own party, the indecisive Bertie had made up his mind.

At the same time, Celia revelled in her role as his partner after he became Taoiseach in 1997. The blonde with the impeccable dress sense enjoyed the attention, and at times - like Diana and the Prince - she even overshadowed the Taoiseach. Her spontaneity and tendency to show what she was thinking were both attractive and increasingly dangerous. Just like Diana, public attention seemed to assuage private insecurities. But only on the surface.

Meanwhile, in the eyes of the Drumcondra mafia and the public, her status changed when she began accompanying Bertie on State business overseas. She enjoyed visits to America, China and Russia and even dined with the Queen. She became close friends with Cherie Blair and was kissed by Bill Clinton. She was her own woman and no longer just an attachment to Bertie.

In Living History, Hillary Clinton's recent autobiography, she refers to her first visit to Dublin in 1997 when the press went wild as Bertie chose the reception at Dublin Castle for Celia's coming out. "He had been separated from his wife for a number of years and maintained a long-term relationship with a lovely and lively woman, Celia Larkin," writes Hillary affectionately. "This involvement was one of those public secrets that everyone knows but no one publicly acknowledges."

While Celia shone, Bertie still refused to regularise their union. As her profile increased, those close to Bertie were becoming more threatened by her. Foreign dignitaries were confused by her status and it wasn't long before religious leaders began to take a swipe at her. Celia was deeply humiliated when Cardinal Desmond Connell snubbed her at a State reception in his honour. The cardinal, unhappy that invitations were sent out in both Bertie and Celia's names, failed to speak to her and made a speech about the importance of marriage. But Bertie was the hypocrite.

Not that Celia was a wilting violet. On the contrary, since Bertie's election, she made the most of cashing in on being First Girlfriend, taking a sabattical from politics, and making her flamboyant foray into the beauty business and image consultancy. She become a regular fashion and beauty contributor to RTE's Nationwide, VIP and other publications, and she went on to open her two beauty salons in quick succession. Just as Diana had, she became a style leader, but unfortunately she seemed to be plagued by similar insecurities.

Stories of her volatility abound, and she was clearly threatened by Bertie's estranged wife Miriam, and their friendship. Several years ago, the Sunday Independent reported the story of Bertie and Miriam's family holiday in Kerry. Celia, who was in New York at the time, was outraged. And you could hardly blame her. It's also well documented that she and Bertie's daughters refuse to be in the same room together.

But Bertie's refusal to divorce Miriam, even though the marriage was over, did little to reassure Celia and they continued to live apart - Celia in Castleknock and Bertie in Drumcondra. At the same time, rumours suggesting he was enjoying the single life too much were circulating and must have reached Celia.

Tensions with Miriam and the girls, fuelled by those who wanted Celia out of the way, did not ease, and Miriam's spread in VIP (Celia's former gig) last May seems to have been a contributory factor to the break-up. And then there is the final straw - the public snubbing of Celia, who wasn't invited to the Georgina-Nicky wedding of the year, albeit in another country. Clearly, that was a symptom rather than a cause of a breakdown in communication.

If a picture speaks - and they do - the last time Bertie and Celia looked truly happy together was in Mexico in January when the President of Mexico welcomed Bertie and "his wife Mrs Ahern". Maybe it was the gaffe that brought such a beaming smile to Celia's face as she gazed adoringly up at Bertie. Or maybe it was what looked like a new ring on her finger.

But in February, I was at a function in Adare Manor attended by both Bertie and Celia. When Bertie gave an unusually stilted speech to the international guests, Celia was the only one in the room who did not stand to applaud him. Not for the first time, she crossed the line. Like the portrait of Diana at the infamous North Korean funeral, the cracks were beginning to show. Unhappiness is written on a person's face, especially one as expressive as Celia's.

In May there were further reports of the break-up, inspiring Bertie to contact the Sunday Independent and inform us that it was not in fact all off. He agreed to be in Shanahans restaurant with Celia at a certain time so that our photographer could take an exclusive picture to run with the story. In fact, as it later transpired, there had been no communication between Bertie and Celia for three months prior to that.

But despite their attempts to patch things up, it does appear to be over now. Yet neither side appears willing to break the news officially. Why? Politics again, of course. Bertie is worried that if he dumps Celia, conservative voters (probably the same ones who used to think of her as his mistress) will fail to re-elect him.

Perhaps, if Bertie - and not some spin doctor at election time - had been reading Tennyson for a slogan to paraphrase, he might have stumbled upon these words: "Sorrow, wilt thou live with me, No casual mistress, but a wife." Celia was no casual mistress. Was she a wife?