When next you find yourself in conversation with an Air Vice-Marshal (it happens more often than you might think), do not on any account refer to “drones” and their use in modern warfare.

Ignore this advice and you could end up on the receiving end of some weapons-grade sarcasm, as witnessed in Vigil (BBC1, Sunday-Tuesday).

“They are never drones. That’s what you fly down the park,”

Air Vice-Marshal Marcus Grainger (Dougray Scott) tells DCI Amy Silva (Suranne Jones). Silva has been called in to investigate a suspected terror attack at a military base.

The correct term for a drone, of course, is an RPAS, or remotely piloted aircraft system. Yes, the military crime drama from the makers of Line of Duty is back for a second series with its love of jargon and cliffhanger endings intact.

READ MORE The Crown bows out with swipe at St Andrews

Same core cast too, led by Jones and Rose Leslie as Kirsten, her partner in life and work. There is one major change, though. While the 2021 series was set on a submarine, the second roams like a drone (sorry, an RPAS) between Scotland and the fictional Middle East kingdom of Wudyan.

Does the location switch matter? So far, not too much. Monday’s episode, when Silva went to Wudyan, was bogged down with exposition and baggier as a result, but there is so much else to compensate, including the rivalry between Silva and Grainger. As last time, Silva has to wade through an ocean of testosterone to be taken seriously.

The chemistry between Silva and Grainger works a treat. He’s almost flirting with her. “One misstep and you’ll find you can’t give your car with petrol,” he tells the detective in a beginner’s guide to oil politics.

“I drive an electric,” she replies.

“Of course you do,” he smiles.

Besides being a thrilling watch, Vigil is a handy reckoner to how much TV drama has changed. In 1994 Brookside was the talk of the tabloids with the first televised lesbian kiss. Heading into 2024 a prime-time drama features a same-sex couple and the relationship is treated as it should be, as routine.

The only eyebrow-raiser was seven months pregnant Kirsten, climbing from one high-rise balcony to another, like Tom Cruise with a baby bump. Definitely not one to try at home, pregnant or otherwise.

READ MORE Did Scotland's Home of the Year judges get it right?

Amy and Kirsten have three more episodes to crack the case. If the presenter of Killing Sherlock: Lucy Worsley on the Case of Conan Doyle (BBC2, Sunday) was assigned it would have been done and fingerprint-dusted by the end of episode one, spit-spot.

There is something of the Mary Poppins about our Lucy. She used to have a thing for hitting the dressing-up box, but these days she relies on enthusiasm to power herself along. What a lot of it she displays in this follow-on from a previous literary investigation into the life and works of Agatha Christie.

The central question for Lucy, a Sherlock fan from the age of nine, was this: “Why didn’t [his] creator, Arthur Conan Doyle, love him as much as the rest of us do?”

After revealing that Conan Doyle, an ostensibly middle class young doctor, played the working class sport of football under an assumed name, it was off to the races for Lucy and her theory of duality. She interviewed academics and writers, explored archives and generally walked in Conan Doyle’s footsteps. It was fascinating and, there’s no other word for it, jolly good fun (except for a tragic bit, when Lucy looked suitably downcast at the cruelty of fate).

At another point she furrowed her brow over some bad reviews of the first Sherlock, A Study in Scarlet, published 1887. But lo, there was a positive piece from The Glasgow Herald, no less, that praised the character for his “preternatural sagacity” and saved the day. Lucy was thrilled, and I don’t mind saying my chest swelled with pride that some inky forebear had made that happen. Lucy herself has preternatural cheeriness, which ought to be a right pain in the Sherlocks but is in fact a lesson for us all.

For more TV reviews please subscribe

Did you make it through the final episodes of The Crown (Netflix)? Some have questioned the decision to end the drama with Charles and Camilla’s wedding, but after 60 hours I think we’ve seen it all, sometimes twice over. Although I would have like to seen Peter Morgan’s take on the Queen and indyref.

A new comedy double act made its debut in Mary Berry's Highland Christmas (BBC1, Wednesday). There was the lady herself, who has spent many a family Christmas in her mother’s homeland, and a young chap by the name of Andy Murray. Something in sports, I believe.

After confessing to eating sushi for Christmas dinner (“no comment” says Mary), Murray tried one of the “dad jokes” his oldest daughter, seven, now finds so embarrassing. I’ll leave it here for you to recycle at your own dinner table, or tell it to the goldfish.

Question: What time does Andy Murray go to bed?

Answer: Ten-ish.