The ghosts of Francis Seneca McDade and the Reverend I M Jolly float over the characterisation of Enoch Dalmellington in Iain Heggie's contribution to A Play, A Pie and A Pint. A vehicle for John Bett, one of the star semi-regulars in the lunchtime theatre seasons, Dalmellington owes a debt to both the wordsmith of John Byrne's hilarious debut and (at least in the crucial role of the absent Euphemia) Rikki Fulton's unfortunate cleric.

Dalmellington, however, is more of an optimist in the face of his misfortunes. Heggie uses the Virginia Street lawyer to paint a picture of Glasgow in the days when the Merchant City was an enclave of fine houses occupied by men who made their fortunes in trans-Atlantic trade - and a mile's walk to the west took you outside the city boundary. Although a member of the legal profession as naive as this stretches credulity, Bett makes him loveable with much fussy costuming, pouring of drinks and bustling in and out.

He is the kind of man who never quite voices his witty lines, but has the esprit d'escalier to report them to us anyway.

All of this helps disguise the fact that the piece is not great theatre, although it is captivating storytelling and, thanks to the device of a very attuned speywife (another of the cast of offstage characters), very funny about the development of Glasgow from Dalmellington's time to now. The smoking ban, riverside apartments and converted churches as palaces of entertainment are all foreseen, to the bafflement of our narrator. Clyde Nouveau continues to provide Heggie with plenty of material.