The Terry & Gaby Show (five); Bad Girls (ITV2)

Good things come in pairs, so they say. Terry and Gaby - as in Wogan and Roslin - is the latest attempt by Chris Evans' production company to find a winning formula, and they can hardly go wrong with such experienced hands.

The premise is simple enough. They sit around on sofas, with Big Ben in the background, talking to guests and chatting amongst themselves. The pair have a rapport that borders on the edge of being irritating but know when to pull back.

It's simple, trivial even, and it's relaxing. You can pop out of the room to make a cup of tea without fear of missing anything important. In other words, ideal daytime TV. I'd say five is on to a winner.

Sadly, other things have kept the new series of Bad Girls out of this column over the past few weeks. Last night's repeat on ITV2 of last week's ITV1 episode provides a good excuse to welcome the Costa Cons to Larkhall women's prison.

They're a class act as impersonated by ultra-snooty Stephanie Beacham and Amanda Barrie (who really should sue the producers over that wig which, as she has pointed out elsewhere, makes her look like Jane Asher's mother). The pair bring the right degree of camp to a couple who've made a good living out of conning people out of their money on the sunny Costa del Sol.

Now they're behind bars and working their criminal magic on inmates and warders alike. After only a couple of weeks their cell is looking like a superior hotel room, with drapes and soft furnishings. "We should get those Julie halfwits to knock us up a couple more cushion covers," said Phyllida, adding: "We should get Hello! round - in cell with the Costa Cons".

They've taken advantage of warder Sylvia (Bodybag) Hollamby's recent bereavement, when her undertaker husband killed himself and boosted his dying trade. Beverley claims to be clairvoyant and a medium able to get in touch with dead people. Bodybag's Bobby has revealed himself through Bev - in return for a couple of bottles of gin and tonic. "It's bad luck not to show gratitude, not money but a small gift is acceptable," explains Phyllida.

Bodybag was initially alarmed when told that Bobby was with "a large lady wearing a white gown" who was "bringing him joy". His widow seem to think he was being unfaithful, until Phyllida pointed out the mystery woman was an angel.

Elsewhere in Larkhall life continues as usual - the governor's gay, his wife is writing herself poison pen letters, ex-porn star Snowball is projectile vomiting as part of her latest escape plan, and Shell Dockley has given birth in between servicing the male screws for a small fee.

Shell's maternal instincts are in doubt. She asks warder Di if she wants to hold the baby. "How else am I going to have a bleeding fag?," explains the proud mum.

She's called the infant Ronan Beckham Dockley. "He'll grow up to be a singing footballer," says Shell. "He's got my looks and his dad's tackle". Ah, mother love. There's nothing like it, is there?