It is strange to find yourself disliking someone who does not exist. Yet that is how I felt about George Riley, the central character in Alan Ayckbourn’s latest play — amazingly, his 74th.

Of course, no playwright’s creations truly exist. Riley, though, is still more of a phantasm, since he doesn’t even appear on stage. This does not stop him from being a source of profound annoyance, however.

For one thing he possesses, like Norman of the many conquests, an unfailing appeal to women. Here, having been diagnosed with terminal cancer, he becomes an object of attraction — partly motivated by do-goodery and guilt — for all three females in the drama. No, make that four — for in perhaps the least likely development in the plot he also appeals to young Tilly, aged 16, who, though much discussed, only makes an appearance in the closing moments of the play and is not even mentioned in the programme.

It is around her lavish birthday party, in the garden of the home of her parents — a vulgarian couple reeking of new money — that some of the action occurs on a set (designer Michael Holt) that shares the stage with those of all the other locations. Directing himself, Sir Alan knows what will work — this does.

Mum Tamsin (Laura Doddington), who rather defines what we think of as Essex chic, is a colleague of George in the local am-dram society. Their romantic entanglements on stage threaten to spill over into private life to the anger of her husband Jack (Ben Porter), whose own philandering is already putting a strain on the marriage.

Dotty and secretly dipso, Kathryn (Liza Goddard) is another thespian. It is from her dull-dog doctor husband, Colin (Kim Wall) —in an unintentional breach of medical ethics — that she has learned of George’s condition. Her missions of mercy to him start to look like something more serious.

Also dancing attention on the stricken man is his estranged wife, Monica (Laura Howard). Her actions begin to jeopardise her new relationship with a strapping, stolid and somewhat taciturn farmer, the oddly named Simeon (Jamie Kenna).

One knows better than to look for a message in an Ayckbourn play; one should just sit back and observe life as it is lived in middle England. The problem with this one for me, though, is that well-acted as it is by all involved, it simply doesn’t ring true. The themes around death that it attempts to tackle are better explored, for instance, and with greater humour, in his Absent Friends — another play with an offstage ‘star’.

Still, Ayckbourn off-form is better than most playwrights at full stretch. Other members of the Playhouse audience clearly enjoyed it much more than I did, though there were noticeable gaps around me in the stalls after the interval.

Until Saturday. Box office 01865 305305 (www.oxfordplayhouse.com).