Teenage girls try to rescue La Contessa from a watery grave

‘Put your arms through the belt,” Nick shouted down to La Contessa at the bottom of the blowhole, “and we will pull you out.”

“That’s terribly ingenious of you, darling,” La Contessa called back. “Tug away.”

The teenage girls from the surf club march past team began to turn the reel and the ancient rope went taut, creaking and twanging ominously.

“The rope is not going to hold,” shouted Bazza Jones urgently as the reel began to slide towards the hole.

“Hurry, darling, the water is … glub … cough … glug,” called La Contessa as the incoming tide rose above her head. Baxter started barking furiously.

“Jam the reel against the rock edge and wind that rope in,” called Nick urgently, throwing himself against the handle. “Come on, girls, pull.”

Suddenly the line went loose and the sea inside the hole made a hideous gurgling sound.

“Oh no, she’s going to blow,” shouted Bazza.

The water roared up the spout of the blowhole, carrying La Contessa with it. She was flung 3m into the air and came crashing down on top of Nick.

“Good catch, darling,” she said breathlessly. “Oh, hello girls, thank you for coming to help.”

“Are you OK?” gasped Nick from beneath her. “I think I may have some broken ribs.”

“I’m fine, thank you. When I realised the water was going to shoot up the spout I tucked everything in and prepared for liftoff,” said La Contessa. “Just like a human cannon ball.”

She jumped up and pulled a groaning Nick to his feet.

“Upsy daisy,” she said. “This is no time for lying around. I have discovered something crucial in our murder inquiry.”