battling between hope and grief

reviewed Lavender BlueRoyal Lyceum theatre, Edinburghuntil February 2

HHHH mercifully few of us in this country face such a situation, but there must be some measure of relief in finding the body of a missing loved one. Only then can the limitless ache of forlorn hope be brought to an end; the popular term is "closure". Grace Barnes's new play, premiered last week, explores the coping strategies of a family denied closure for 15 years.

The MacKinnons are a well-to-do Borders family whose garden overflows with lavender, a fragrant symbol of idealised, soothing memories. But in 1986, when twin daughters Lily and Kate were 17, something happened and Kate disappeared. In the ensuing years, each family member has found - or died trying - a way of coping. The mother, elder brother and eldest sister cling into the certainty of Kate's death; while the father drank himself to the grave. In a sense, he's the lucky one: for the others, there's an implacable grief born partly from the suppression of hope.

This uneasy stability is undermined when, just before the play begins, Lily returns to the family home after many years away - mainly in Australia, where heavy drinking has finally destroyed her career. Eventually, she reveals that she has traced her sister to France and established a correspondence with her. Kate, she announces to her incredulous family, is alive, well and coming home. But might it be true?

Lavender Blue is a well-made if conventional psychological thriller in the mould of Rattigan, with the spooky added dimension of a preternatural connection between the twins. The script has a few hackneyed moments: for example, Barnes could surely have come up with an alternative to the clanger, "Sorry - I shouldn't have said that." But the language of evasion, deceit and self-delusion is often beautifully mounted, and there's a bruising power in the gradual erasure of comforting lies.

Muriel Romanes' production strikes precisely the right note of eerie solemnity, aided in no small part by Bunny Christie's set, which merges past and present, indoors and outdoors with elegance. The play is performed by a disciplined ensemble, with Pauline Turner feistily sexual as Lily, while Eileen McCallum as the mother and Jimmy Chisholm as the brother-in-law are excellent. There is fine work, too, from the young twins who play Lily and Kate as children, their gamboling and giggling sustaining the past as a real presence in the here and now.

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