Medical examinations for insurance companies were a bit tedious but the money was guaranteed. Three guineas per examination was not to be sneezed at when starting up a practice. Money for old rope was how one agent had put it.
Teddy’s career in rugby had acquainted him with many in the insurance business and he was quickly placed on several medical panels.
It took longer to become established as an examiner for embassies. Examinations for visa purposes were more exacting and also required blood tests. However, those seeking visas were generally patient and good humoured. Some of the most difficult ones were those where an interpreter was required.
He had no reason to believe that his meeting with Fr. Foley, in connection with an Australian visa application, would be anything but routine. When Foley came into his surgery, Teddy saw he was a big man. He was put in mind of the line in a song that went ‘and his belly was getting slack’.
He stood up and greeted the priest, noting that he was wearing a full-sized, dated clerical collar and was dressed in black. He motioned Foley to be seated and began.
“This is quite a detailed form but it has to be fully filled out. I am happy to clarify any queries you may have as we go along. Could I have your full name and date of birth please?”
“Sure, they have that already.”
“So be it but I am obliged to ask you today, to fill in this form.”
“Botheration,” said Foley before complying.
“Do you smoke or drink?” asked Teddy.
“That is personal. What business is that of theirs? Aren’t they lucky to be getting me?”
“Well, I am afraid I need to provide this information,” said Teddy.
“I have a cigar after dinner at night. Only the best. Cuban if possible. I have no interest in that filthy habit of cigarette smoking. As regards alcohol, didn’t we all drink too much when we were younger? I now confine myself to a glass of vintage port after dinner and an Armagnac nightcap,” said Foley.
“Any serious illness in the past?” asked Teddy.
“Indeed, it is true that God works in mysterious ways. I cannot see why they need to know that. Put down malaria and Dengue fever in the 50’s in Nigeria.”
Teddy rose and asked the priest to get up on the scales saying, “I need to measure your height and weight.”
Foley remained seated. He put his hands up to his face and grunted in exasperation. “No need for that. I am six-foot-one and twelve-and-a-half stone.”
“I still need to check these today,” said Teddy.
“Is it the height or the weight you doubt? I’ll make it easy for you. You know there is a height requirement of six feet to enter the Guards? Well, a month ago, my nephew was turned down on the height requirement by the local sergeant. When my sister told me, I arranged to meet the lad at the guards’ station later that day.
“How did you measure the lad’s height? I asked.
“He produced a rolled-up cloth tape and said he had held it up to the boys back.
“Well, I am six one so, let us stand back to back and put a ruler over our heads.
“Wasn’t it dead level?
“Nuff said, said the Sargent, a man I have known for the eleven years I’m in the parish as PP.
“As regards the weight, I have an Avery scale at home and I check my weight regularly after my morning Jacuzzi.”
“Let’s leave it ’till the end so,” said Teddy.
After the physical examination, Teddy asked if the priest had brought a urine specimen.
“Indeed, I have.” Reaching into his brief case, the priest produced a large, glass bottle half-filled with golden liquid.
“Is that enough for you?” he asked.
“Ample,” said Teddy.
As he decanted some into a container, Teddy could not help reading the label. It read:
SACRAMENTAL WINE
SONOMA VALLEY
“Sorry, I hadn’t a smaller bottle to put it in,” said Foley.
“Please indulge me by stepping on the scale to check your height and weight before you go,” said Teddy.
The priest complied and Teddy thanked him.
Foley turned as he reached the surgery door.
“Now, don’t you see that was not necessary?” he said.
“Good luck in your ministry in the Antipodes,” said Teddy.
He sat and completed the form, inputting weight – 13 stone seven pounds; height – 5 foot ten inches.
‘I suppose, five foot ten is not too bad for a guard,’ he mused.