A scruffy man in a kilt and football shirt shambles onto the stage, a can of Tennent’s in his hand. The room he’s in is bare now: just a chair or two to sit on, and a removal box on the floor. In sombre silence, he reaches in and wistfully pulls out a scarf, a hat, a pair of glasses. The implication’s clear. Someone’s died – someone he was close to.

Singing Sands is a story rooted in a place, and in an archetype. The place is the isle of Eigg, off the west coast of Scotland; the archetype is the distinctively Scottish matriarch – or to put it more plainly, granny. Though this family’s granny is no longer with us, her loving, fierce, whisky-tippling presence imbues the script, gradually forming into an image of someone who’s shaped and influenced her family’s lives.

Ali, the man in the football shirt, isn’t alone for long; once he’s joined by his two siblings, some well-observed family dynamics begin to emerge. Oldest-sister Skye believes she’s the grown-up one, though she doesn’t challenge Ali’s casually cruel teasing of youngest-brother Harris. But Ali is the black sheep, his presence here accepted but not entirely welcome. The question of what happened – what caused this rift – hangs over the play, and the answer touches on difficult realities felt well beyond the island’s shores.

All three performances are superb. As Harris, Sean Russell is rumpled, reserved, the self-evident junior – yet has the courage to speak up when it matters. Eilidh Park’s Skye is efficient and stand-offish, a habit she’s picked up in London maybe, though we sense she cares more than she’s letting on. And as Ali, Hugo Shack is the production’s core, able to conjure both utter silence and hoots of laughter from the audience as his volatile mood swings around.

And there is a lot of laughter here, despite the serious themes – including one slapstick moment that’ll have you smothering a guilty giggle at something you really shouldn’t find funny at all. Singing Sands will speak to anyone who’s ever left or returned home, or who’s watched a loved one doing the same. Even more, it’s a bittersweet reminder of what grandparents can mean to us, and how their love and even their flaws can anchor our lives. It’s a touching play that will linger in my memory long after I’ve moved on.